Andy 21h
You can easily gain my trust.
My trust ended with Ali's thrust.
She asked for a picture.
After that, she got sicker.

She took my purity.
I told myself that it was just her immaturity.
She asked me, "Have you ever thought of having sex?"
I said no, looking for other subjects.

"I'm only 13," I said.
She was pleased, and played with my head.
She sent me a picture of her chest, I declined.
She wanted me to unwind.

"I want to do a roleplay. And you have to do it too." She demanded.
We did it, and she frowned, "You left me empy-handed."
"I'm sorry," I begged on the phone.
I shrank, and she had grown.

She asked me out, I said no.
"I don't want to hurt you though."
She screamed, she cried.
And she acted like my bride.

"I want this to be over." I yelped.
"I thought we had something, this won't help."
"Please don't leave me. Don't go."
"I'll put on a show."

Scared, I walked away.
Putting this off to the next day.
I wrote a letter on paper, sent it to her.
She freaked out, and made it a hard occur.

"I'm not sorry. You hurt me emotionally. You treat me like a toy."
"And I'm not your boy."
She acted like it was all my fault,
When really it was all of her's, that was sexual assault.


I know it's easy to say,
Just to block her and run away.
But it's not that easy with her.
She'd go on other accounts, and tell people that she didn't remember.
And that to her, our relationship was just a blur.

She used me for her sexual desires.
"Playing hard to get? That really makes me go bonkers."
I know it's easy to cry,
Just let out my emotions and let my eyes go dry.

I opened up to her, and she just said "Okay."
Pushing my feelings far, far away.
Now I'm stronger.
I won't let go.

In that hell she held me,
She acted like a hoe.
If that happened longer,
I would've broke.

Once again, trust.
It's easy to gain it from me,
Just don't show your bust.
And please, don't plee with me.

Because I will break you down.
And I'll let you drown.
My friend forced me to send her pictures of myself, naked. And would constantly call me, and demand me to do a roleplay with her. And I'm sorry if the pattern kind of got messed up towards the end. It was kind of hard to keep up.
God,
The Father,
Raped his only daughter,
Eve,
And Eve gave birth
To a bastard son
Called Western Civilization.
Donald Trump
Is only the latest
High Priest of this cult
Built upon myth.
i haven't been able to sleep quite right
the nightmares are keeping me up at night
again
12 years ago, i was molested
4 years ago, i was raped
a year ago, i was raped by someone different
i've been asked why i've been putting myself in these situations
i protest, always
"i'm not! i swear!"
but as i hear their words, telling me it's all my fault
i come to the realization that
maybe it is
maybe its the way i dress, or the way i trusted too easily
i'm trying to keep strong
but i've been making a mess of the bed each night
i try to remember i'm loved as my lover holds me tight
but all i can remember is his rough hands shoving my body down
closing my eyes and trying not to let myself drown
all i can remember is my own flesh and blood
telling me to do things no five year old should
and i've been having trouble sleeping in my own bed
and i wanna tell someone but i put it all on paper instead
Take her body, squander her soul.
Rape her mind, remove her control.
Take her eyes, so she cannot see.
Take her voice so she cannot speak.
Burn what little hope she has.
Take her peace, they'll remember her as: crazy, chaotic, erotic, pyschotic, foreign, and mystic...
Despite how she fought it.

Corrupt her memories, pervert her art.
Take all she has left, and rip it apart.

When she's gone, tell the world how you loved her, but not how you hated, berated and destroyed her.
Let's make America retarded again!
We've been lagging so far behind the rest of the world
When it comes to stupidity!
Let's drop out of the United Nations Human Rights Council
To show that we are Good Christians,
And to express our solidarity with Israel.
That way,
More and more women worldwide
Will be raped
In the name of Jesus Christ!
grace 5d
I opened my eyes.
My limbs were stiff and my body was sore.
My vision was blurred;
Brain groggy and confused.
I stretched and felt pain in my hips.
Pain in my neck and arms and shoulders.
I looked around the space that I was in.
They were on either side of me.
I was cold and bare, displayed for everyone to see.
I gathered my clothes and left.
The sun was just rising on this cold December day.
The air was biting cold;
I could feel it stabbing my legs through my jeans.
Though my house was only a mile up the road,
I thought it would take years to get there.
It was surely below zero.
My bruised body and sore muscles
moved slowly.
I was freezing,
my brain was fogged over and unable to function properly.
Finally I had made it to my front door.
It was unlocked, and I knew enough to know that that was odd.
I stumbled in, frozen hands thawing in the heat.
My mom was at the table;
she waited for me to come home.
She asked where I was.
I panicked.
"Andrea's," I said.
She shrugged and went back to bed.
I went downstairs to my room and sat down on my bed.
My mind finally became more clear,
but I didn't know what had happened.
I tried to think but I could remember nothing.
All I knew is that something felt very wrong.
It felt like I had been violated.
My hips and thighs hurt with every move.
My arms were bruised,
my legs were bruised.
I was bleeding.
Something very wrong and terrible had happened.
I knew it, but I didn't know exactly what.
I started to cry.
I started to panic.
I ran to my bathroom and took a shower.
I told myself that I was fine.
The hot water boiled through my skin to my bones.
I must have been in there for an hour.
The whole time, I cried.
I threw out the clothes I was wearing
hoping my mom wouldn't find them in the trash outside.
"If you ever tell anyone, you'll be sorry."
They told me at school after break.
I moved to East Troy after that, taking what I remembered
and burying it deep down
inside my brain.
I denied it for a long while.
Denied it through my relationship with Mark,
who only made everything worse.
I'm dealing with it now,
but the details are still a little groggy.
And because I'm starting now to remember,
it gives me terrible gut-wrenching anxiety.
Even though I know I'm safe and I will not be hurt again.
It puts a strain on things sometimes. Like my relationship, I feel as though Brandon thinks that this is so foreign. I fear that my damaged emotional psyche might be too much for him to handle at times. He wouldn't leave unless there was probable cause, but it's still something that I fear from time to time. I hate this.
A girl lies naked, bruised and bleeding on the bathroom floor. She’ll say she was raped but it’ll be her who’ll take the fall. The football team will still play that Friday night and she’ll be accused of telling hysterical lies.
“She was breaking the dress code” you were breaking the law, violation of the law gets you a court sentence but rich parents get you good lawyers who get you off free, she’ll never be free to walk the streets home alone fearing that every time she looks into a man’s eyes she will see the image of you as she prayed for help but was instead preyed on by the Prom King Predator.

Her bruises whether they be physical or not are hers to reveal and if you feel the need to go around telling her story then you’re an ass, “she had a sweet ass” you had sweet talk which made her feel safe and then suddenly she felt betrayed. So she’s a whore if she sleeps with a guy even if it wasn’t consensual but when you sleep with a girl you’re a playa and did a good job on hitting that; you going to bang her? Screw her? Nail her?

The words used to describe it are almost as violent as the act done upon her.

There was pain in her voice but her body betrayed her, it portrayed pleasure when all she felt was agony. The pain in her voice was clear to those around her but the pleasure was all they focused on, the pleasure is what caused her the feeling of being ashamed for the next four years until she could open up to someone.

Around school she was known as the quiet girl, the girl without a story, this was true in a sense because her story like most was never told.
Harsha ravi Jun 14
He touched her
This random stranger
His rough hands slid up her bare thigh
He wandered higher causing his desire to amplify
She gasped and shuddered
His words making her feel more revolted
She pushed and she ran
Picking her burqa up with her hand
They turned and the spoke
All these women who saw everything as a joke
"She deserved it" one said
For what she was wearing proved just that.
A girl gets raped and the fault often falls on her. " She was dressed like a slut, she deserved it." No she did not that is not how rape works, people need to learn before accusing the victim.
Blake Jun 13
As my foreign bones and ragged skin were being disfigured and gritted underneath the heaviness of you.
I soon came to the realisation,
That my betraying heart was differing its rhythm...
It’s beating.
To match and partner with your own.

And although your mental and physical rebelled together to take and conquer my being and willpower.
I begged for your heart to have mercy,
To betray its instincts
And stop it’s beating...

So mine would unwillingly follow suit
and therefore save me from
Eternal sadistic blues.
I think my heart would of deserve it.
Eric Draven Jun 13
We were the only two
breathing the same oxygen
I screamed in.
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