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Dahlya Apr 2018
The night he took my innocence.
Was the night everything changed.
His shirt had been my favorite color,
A color that I can no longer bare to see.
His laugh,
So pure and happy,
Now haunts my every dream.
Those big blue eyes,
I had once looked at in awe,
Instill a new kind of fear in me,
Each time I see his eyes,
In a new friendly face.
The smell of his cologne,
I had loved so much
Is now revolting.
I was so naïve,
Young and trusting,
And he stole the small amount of innocence,
That I had left.
I will never trust again,
And I will always look behind me,
Fearing who may be there.
They told me it was my fault,
I should have listened,
To what I’d always been taught.
Cover up before you go out,
Don’t accept drinks from strangers,
Stay close to your friends.
But in the moment,
It all seemed right.
He was kind,
His eyes were warm,
And he paid attention to my every word,
Making me feel special,
A feeling that I wasn’t used to.
So like a child,
I trusted his charm.
I would give anything,
To take back my innocence,
To go back and try again.
To cover up,
To make my own drinks,
To stay close to my friends.
But I didn’t,
And I will never get back,
What I left in his bed.
I will keep the memory,
And the paralyzing fear,
Until I become stronger.
Strong enough to realize,
That It wasn’t my fault,
That there was nothing I could’ve done,
And that he was the only one that could’ve stopped it.
The night that ruined my life,
Was all in a stranger’s hands,
In his charming words,
And his breaking touch.
One day I will have the satisfaction of knowing,
That despite his efforts,
He didn’t ruin me,
I survived.
Trigger warning
Meera Feb 2018
I am sick of the stares that follow me everywhere
And of the letches I find on the street
I am sick of being catcalled on roads
And  then asked to be silent about it
I am sick of the curfews that my parents impose on me
And their fears about my safety which it reflects
I am sick of the **** cases I hear about everyday
And the threat that i might be its victim too
I am sick of acid attacks
And of one-sided lovers whose love isn’t actually love
I am sick of listening about dowry victims
And of how people burn their brides for money
I am sick about not being treated equally as men
And the discrimination I see everywhere
I am sick of being judged by my clothes
As if they aren’t my clothes but my character
Yes I am a woman
And trust me I am sick of it
Having undergone inexplicable misery being a woman in a place where women were placed on an elevated level in the past, the present commotion
of a world with annihilated human sensibility seems to have made life of women  a terrible experience in diurnal move in every day life forcing live in misery and pain.

— The End —