It's rather ironic.
Our Society WORSHIPS youth.
Many corporations MARKET primarily to Youth.
Many of our Political Leaders
What accounts
For this discrepancy?
Her 2d
in college i was asked
if i could compare myself to anything
but a human
what would i be

most of the class
said a tree
the ocean
a flower
the wind
but not me

i am an onion
hardened on the outside
but as you take your finger
and peel
and peel
and peel

you find that
the layers of my life
have left you in tears
or sad

that choice is up to you
Lucy Jade Feb 26
I tell her I’m tired and go to bed, I’ve had a couple of shots and a beer in my hand and I throw on one of her tee shirts and sweats and sleep
It’s 3:27 am I wake up with the alarm clock right in my face
As if fate was saying you will remember this forever
A man I do not know it touching me, he places his self inside me,
Like a knife into a piece of meat
I can’t move, I’m confused, I’m sad I’m angry, I’m shocked, I feel every emotion at once but I’m in limbo,
This can’t be happening I say
But it is and my body does nothing to change it.
I can’t look him in the face as his chuckles and groans becomes the ringing in my head,
My pants are on the ground and all I want to do is shed my skin
I walk to the bathroom I’m still floating in limbo it feels my steps aren’t really steps
This is all a nightmare
Bathroom doors lock and hopes that shower doors could too, the water so hot I hope it melts him off me
Like candle wax
I don’t remember anything after that
The next day I tell my friends
You were raped they say.
Rape victim is the one thing I never thought would describe me
Yet still every time I close my eyes I see the alarm clock
3:27 am
Every time I hear a laugh it’s his
Every time I’m alone
I’m scared that I’m not.
reilly 3d
when I was 14 I was force fed contraception and never got a taste of an apology
when I was 14 the phrase "I'm not ready" wasn't a clear enough interpretation of "no"
so instead of presenting my case in front of a judge, I presented my virginity in front of a 17 year old boy.
when I was 14 I didn't know I was being raped until a week and a half later when it happened again.
and even through my broken sobs and nightmares, my own father didn't believe me for over a year.
when I was 15, I was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder because the distinction between love and tear stained pillow cases was nearly non existent.
when I was 15, I made the decision to drown the flashbacks in a sea of painkillers, and in what followed I met thirteen other beautiful girls who shared the same story I did.
when I was 16 I realized something had to be done.

for two years I hid a badge labeled 'rape victim' under long sleeves and red eyes because I was too ashamed of what I let happened to myself to get help.
I was told I made a false accusation, when in reality the only fallacy is in our justice system.

rape is not always a white t shirt with specks of blood in the back of an alley or a drunk uncle with a wandering eye. rape is not always screaming at the top of your lungs and fighting for your life with a knife to the neck. it is not always textbook, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be taken seriously.
Tsunami 4d
the first time
i was 15
hands grabbed my budding breasts
a warm breath on my neck

the second time
i was 18
he flipped me over
held me down
after he questioned why i bled

the third time
i was 21
he told me to be good
that he wanted me to make him proud
off came my shirt
forced my mouth to do things i didn't want

hands feel like boulders even now
/nothing ever changes/
tongues feel like battering rams
/i am estranged/
it's like i have a neon sign pointing at me
/i feel deranged/
saying "hurt me"
in flashing lights
the chances of being assaulted are doubled for victims.
affi 5d
I thought it was your affection
Like seeing a loved one after a long time
I gave you the benefit of the doubt
That was not okay

But affection had never touched me like this before
Your hand on my waist
No this doesn't feel right
This is not okay

I leaned away
And you closer
And I said it was good to see you again
(That's how interactions end right?)
This was not okay

I smiled screaming silently
I couldn't disrespect
Someone older
This was not okay

You leaned in
And kissed my neck
Ate it
With my trust
Of men
Like you
That was not okay

And now I'm not okay
Ray T 6d
If I told anyone I was raped, they wouldn’t believe me
I live in a world that preaches against hypothetical violence but when that shit comes into your life, everyone pushes it away.
I remember, no I don’t remember, I can barely remember his name.
I think it started with a “C”.
I think he was from Minnesota.
I think we were on a sixteen hour flight.
I think he smiled at me.
I think I smiled back, because why the fuck wouldn’t I.
I think he took that as a green light.
I think I shut my eyes to try and sleep.
I think he took that as a green light.
I am fifteen.
I think too little of his advances and trust society enough for me to rest.
I know that was a mistake.
I know I woke up to a blanket around me that wasn’t there before.
I know I woke up to his palm pressed in my pants.
I know I woke up screaming.
I know I couldn’t open my mouth.
I know I was screaming.
I know my mother was on that same plane three rows back.
I was fifteen.

I told my friends and they never believed me.
I haven’t told a soul since.
Why did he walk away from that unscratched while I have been carrying it around like a dead animal for three years?
Why do men think they can own what they can see?
Let me tell you what I can see:
Five people who asked me why I didn’t fight back.
Four people that were sitting around me and claimed to see him putting the cover on me, yet did nothing.
Three of his friends I saw later on the trip who praised him for what he accomplish upon seeing what I looked like.
Two eyes in the mirror that cry almost everyday.
And one crack in that same mirror that will never go away.
Thank you all for your responses. This feels so amazing to let it all out in my words. This is about my first experience.
Eva 6d
Why bother?
With "niceties"
(Tasted like me screaming anyway)

Only wanted
What you took
(My unmoving body somehow begging for it?)

As if
Between my legs
Was a place you owned
(It is not mine anymore)

In hazy
(All my fault)
Of semi consciousness

Barely felt you
Until the next morning
(I always feel you now)

Megan 6d
It’s not even about safety
It’s really hard to say but once you’ve been raped there’s really no more boundaries in your mind between intimacy and what everyone else can have.
Someone I don’t know has seen and touched me in ways I only want my lover too.
It feels like I am an object to play with and gets thrown away when they’re done.
It’s a constant back and forth between fear and “you’ve already been used so it dosen’t matter anyway”
Like i’m a piece of clothe that’s been stained so you wear it to paint.
I’ll never forget the sinking feeling. The thoughts that went trough my head.
The moment he slid it in, I knew that something broke inside me and my smile would never be the same.
It’s time we talk about things that matter
Ray T 6d
I try so hard to scrub him off me.
It has been over four years and I still scream in the night.
The feeling is so suffocating that when I open my lungs, dust puffs out.
All I have left from him is layers over layers over layers of insecurity and fear.
When you ask me if I liked that, I smile and nod and yes yes of course,
But I can’t even feel it anymore.
Sometimes I am so numb by what has happened to me and my protective mechanisms resurface
Blocking every sense of touch and emotion that I have,
Giving you the show that I was taught to give.
The only feeling that remains after we have sex is the feeling of another man’s teeth sinking into my neck,
Clamping down on the blood flow to my brain,
Knocking me out in a much more pleasant way than when he would with his fists.
No matter how raw I scrub myself, his fingerprints and bruises linger.

I love you.
I am trying to forget him.
I am shaking in your arms and it is for all the wrong reasons and it has been a year,
A year into this beautiful life with you and I still don’t think I have told you.
It is not your fault, I know that.
What I don’t know, is if it was mine?
Next page