Its like I can't get your face
out of my head
its like you haunt me ,
it haunts me
how you violated me
in your bed
naked
without ever caring
to listen to my no's!!

While having to go about  the next day,
like nothing else happened
that it had occurred yet again,
although this time
it had left its mark on my  face
that I am still battling all  these months later.

A reminder to myself
to not trust easily anymore!
To NEVER  Allow  Any "MAN" to ever disgrace me again,
to never allow anyone to ever take advantage of me,
and my kindness again!
To never allow myself to hookup with someone again!
To never ever doubt myself
And to always listen to myself!

So as I see your face in my mind
I curse at you,
and all of the pain that you have given me,
and all of its sorrow.

because it hurts so so deeply
and the fear carasses  at my bones

You held a promise
over my head like a guillotine,

I'd be safe as long as I did
what you asked,

I'd survive so long as I
gave you what you wanted,

I saw God in the face of Satan,
because there was no other
way for it to be,

and you want my thanks
and gratitude for being
my saviour that
night?

when you would put me
in a prison, for the rest of my life...

I swear
next time a person  tells me ,
"oh she looks like a  little ****
OH SHE WAS
ASKIN FOR IT !
OH YOUR BODY
IS THE REASON
YOU WERE TOUCHED
oh she's slept with too many men ,
oh she's too much of an angry feminist."

I would love to ask them
well
WHYYYY
do you think she's such an
ANGRY FEMINIST
I know why I AM!!!!
;

BECAUSE when so many men &women
have ***** abused assaulted
hurt me with words
emotionally abused manipulated
gaslighted me
you feel poisoned by the men
who should've protected you
and when you feel that way by many women too
than where does that leave you ??
it leaves you hating most people
so stop tellin' us
TO STOP BEING
MAD
START
CHANGIN'
AND THEN
JUST SHUT
THE HELL
UP!!!

SO ANGRY
where do i go
do i go home
why did the abuser
have to feel so familar
so happy
i got out in 2 days
instead of longer
it hurts
that I felt the pain again
ANGRY
so
ANGRY
at the patriarchy
at the men
who claim to be good
when they are really just
fetishizing
hating creatures
who believe
that they can try to control me
manipulate me
influence me
or bend me to their ways
but SORRY
to break you
YOU CAN"T
BREAK ME
OR FORCE ME
TO DO ANYTHING
I will be respected
no matter
who I must avoid
or cut off
I CHOOOSE ME
NO MATTER WHAT
I am tired of men ruling my life
I am
as well as all of the ancestors behind me
raging against most of the horrible men out there
For the good men out there
I can't wait to meet more of you
and to actually converse
and have nice interactions

It’s been a while…
It truly has been a while since I’ve written here, but yesterday I was triggered, inspired if you will; inspired to write this and let it be real.
When I was a child, 2nd grade to be exact, I befriended a ******* the school bus and long story short she spent my entire 2nd grade year manipulating me into all kinds of ****** acts not only with her but with other classmates. I was told by this girl, my classmate, another child, a second grader that everything we were doing was okay, it was all okay. Why?? Because her and her sisters did this kind of thing all the time.
To me as a child it made sense I guess, but she also threatened that if I ever told anyone as in ANYONE she would tell them it was all my fault all my idea. All of the staying in classrooms when no one was there, hiding and being told to do things that were beyond a child’s or even some adult’s comprehension, the hiding anywhere and everywhere and the fear of being caught it all was in my hands, and if i told I was to blame.
This went on for an entire year, or so who knows I blacked it out, but I vividly remember using a journal I got as gift to document it all detailed and when I got scared my mom would find it… I ripped the pages to shreds. And I killed the memory. I went my entire life until 19 years old that I realized it was never a dream.
It was real.
The point of this all is during a deep discussion With my best friend, I expressed to her the moment after all these years that remembered the girls name.
I told her one day my mom found a different journal I wrote in as a child, she found it a couple years ago and I was intrigued so I flipped to a random page… and on that page it was a prompt that asked my favorite and least favorite things about school.
My least favorite thing about school is: J**h .
There it was!!! Her name .
I told my best friend her name and seeing as though after I left the school district she stayed, we recalled the girl and how I can’t see her face in my mind but she knew she had a twin sister and they left the district after 2nd or 3rd grade and they came back in middle school. However by middle school I had transferred schools.

Long story short it shock my entire being that I missed this encountering this girl again . And I will never know her face or why she chose me but all I know is she was just the beginning of my trauma.

at the hands of a holy man, I was taken away
I'm not sure what they did with her but
she's still gone to this day
I don't know if we'll ever find her
but be my guest and try
and if you do, from me through you, tell her
it's ok to cry

What do you want from me?
I ask my memories,
Wondering why they’ve come out to play,
Tap dancing across the wood floors of me mind,
Creating a cacophony that echoes off my skull.
What do you want from me?
I hear them when they respond, “We’re trying to make you safe.”
I know they’re attempting to prevent tumbling off the same rocks,
Trying to ensure I don’t crack bones on the same hard places.
They are telling me to avoid having pieces of me stolen again.
I couldn’t protect myself at thirteen or sixteen,
So I stumbled down the same dark alleys until I was 18
And paid a grander price in an even darker cave at 19.
I’m 22 now, and I’m still picking up the pieces out of the mouths of men,
Men who cut me down until I was a conglomerate of bite size, fuckable pieces.
I was taught not to scream when my pieces were being consumed.
Who needs to be a whole human anyway?
If tip money went into my pocket,
If he told me he loved me afterwards,
If I was alive to see the morning light,
Who was I to complain?  
And when I stopped wanting to see the sun rise,
They gazed upon my pieces
And berated me for the wreckage.
What do you want from me?
Is a question I only know how to ask myself.
I have never dared ask those who stole from me
Whether they came to me in good faith,
Never had the wisdom to lock up what was valuable.
I have never demanded of anyone what their intentions were,
So I ask again: What do you want from me?
What am I expected to provide?
Am I allowed to be a whole human here?
Or will you require I be bite size again?
I am desperate to be safe in the same flesh that once enticed those who hunted me.
What do you want from me?
I’ll tell you what I want.
I want to go home whole,
Knowing my skin is all mine.