They told him he was an orphan,
to be swept, like so much dirt,
under the Empire’s carpet.
He had further to go than the Israelites
to be delivered into slavery.
The men of God would make an honest man of him.

This was not an attitude of prayer
as he knelt naked outside Brother X’s room.
This was no crucifix
he was made to clasp in the dark.
This was no blessed communion
he was forced to receive on his tongue.
This Judas betrayed him with more than a kiss.

Forty years he has carried his cross,
hoping for a resurrection of the truth.
“Silent night, unholy night,” we all sang
and then,
like God,
we were strangely silent.

I do not want to blame you.
I fell hopelessly, desperately in love
and that was not your fault.
Our summer was smiles and laughter
and sleepy morning *** and cuddles at 2AM.
How could I not love you?
All was golden in your presence
and nothing hurt.
The demons of yesterday were banished
by the warmth of your adoration,
and I slowly forgot the sorrow
growing around my heart like a sickness.

I do not blame you.
But no one taught me the difference
between love and dependence.
No one taught me that I could love you
and still say no.
I let you tie me down, hold me,
Hurt me,
because I was terrified to lose you.

I know I shouldn't blame you.
But I still flinch at unknown hands,
still pull away when I feel threatened,
and I feel threatened more than ever.
Anxiety claws my throat,
hands shake, vision blurs,
His eyes are your eyes are his eyes
and I can still hear your voice.
"Kneel ****"
I don't know how I stand up now.

2 men,
that's it.
2 men
have known me,
inside, they fit.

Doped out
of my mind;
it's hard to recall.
Bits and pieces,
flashes of memory.
I was a living rag doll.

Barely breathing,
he takes me from behind.
Pulls my hair,
and says,
"I'm gonna make you mine!"

I think it happened
three times,
but who really knows?
When your brain's
as high as mine goes.

I can't call it ****,
I was a willing participant.
Numb to the bones,
so with it I went.

When it all fell apart;
my secrets exposed,
he wrote me something
that was no longer prose.

His words were razor blades,
slicing the skin with ease.
I kept myself in my own prison;
over, my heart began to freeze.

"A willing **** victim",
is what he called me.
Sick to my stomach
for allowing him in,
I lay my head on the pillow
to cry for a 5 year old sin.

You were sap on my fingertips.
Amusing,
but tiresome.

I always did like sticky situations.
One must keep things interesting,
you know.

Our romance was
utterly cliché;
with the class
of the ****
you used to make.
Circa 1975.

Your capricious nature
was infectious.
And lucky for you,
the ****** had already
eradicated any morsel
of logic or reason
that should have been in attendance.

I was ripe for the picking.

With unfaltering,
unwavering decadence
you won
a child's heart,
but not without
stealing the body too.

Heartless ******* people everywhere.

Shoving young girls
flat on their taut tummkes
for better access
on beds, ***** mattresses and floors
everywhere.

I can still recall
the scent of your pillowcase
as your hand pressed,
hard,
my head to the center of the bed.

I'm sure you remember,
you know,
the way my ******-soaked body
flopped,
nearly lifeless,
as you took
and took
and took
what you saw to be yours.

I hope I haunt
some frequented
highway of your psyche.
Walking the wet roads,
thumb extended at my side.

You know me
by the switch of my hips,
the curve of my ***
and the smell
of naive innocence.

I feel you behind me;
I always feel you behind me.

"Need a ride, kitten?"

Glorious evil pulses through me.

You're a sucker.
You'd pick me up everytime.

I feel lost
Faceless in this
World of faces
Im uncertain of my
Path. Left? Right?
Will I end it all tonight?
How is it that
I hate what he did
To me yet I crave
The touch? I must
Be sick or completely
Insane. Whats wrong with me?
Why do I crave this pain?

One hundred to five to one to one
no one
They don't need your apologies
Come around the stand and say that to my eyes
you don't see
They don't crave verdict driven "sorry"s
nailed to a cross by a stone gavel
Burn that haunted cross
As the hearts and souls of the teaming
wish they could do again
trying to stand against definitions of self
definitions of manhood
little girl, only thirty-three years old
silenced in fear, silenced by fear
as the confident voices blow into her ear
1...2...3...4...5
times two
a grip that claims, that yells, that demands
a redefinition to the meaningless phrase
I love you.
Three months--- screams are muffled in horror, quieted verbals
ringing where only one can hear
Seven years---body is sliced by knives as she looks in the mirror
and sees a human hole.
How can you live, how can you say
that you know that everything will be all right with time
Who gets time?
Not ninety-nine thousand
demoralized, demonized, unrecongnized,
set free with a fine, or gone undefined alltogether
as Fear's closet of nails confines a million
ostracized and mortified
unable to band together
thank you judicial priority.
One hundredth of abusers given time
two years later out again
But one hundred-thousand others
hear you tell them
how to heal a womb ***** unsacred,
how to stand against a beast stripped naked,
how to quickly turn a limb placated
before it comes down to bruise her swollen rainbow skin.
And you justify a girl ripped open
entered in agony, her ***** broken
the first time she was eight years old
the hundredth time she was nine.
And you sympathize
as the sad man cries behind the podium
how can you not understand that no means no
no means don't
no means stop
stop means help me.
He understood that
he understood and he disregarded
every being on this rock for his own sick pleasure
I care about you.
he said to himself
Where were you when she got drugged in a bar
Where were you when he was ambushed by orange
Where were you when her husband refused to hear her terrified words
Where were you when they pleaded to anyone
Please please please please, Oh God make it stop
Now where are you behind your news desks, your podiums, your microphones, and your clipboards
when they risk their lives to ask for justice
when they cry out for the safety of their daughters
of your daughters
only so child souls aren't slaughtered
as they are thrown into a system that insists
they are not good enough.
A system of blow-up dolls, of pop songs, of stripper poles
defining a woman as only a hole.
He stole my innocence
You stole my dignity.
You stole my dignity, you stole my daughter's, my granddaughter's, sister's, aunt's, mother's
when you insist that the fix
is covering my body
shielding my ******
and saying no.
No is what I say to you
No is what I say to your apologies, your sympathies, your pities
She shouldn't have to get down on her knees for him
or for you
You say you've seen everything
Maybe you've seen everything
Films, shows, the **** scenes of everything
But you have not experienced everything
And I pray to God
that you have not done everything
But as far as I know, you haven't done anything
And legs and mouth and hearts
will be torn open
as hope is stripped from the holy bodies of the screaming unspoken
over and over and over again
Ninety-nine thousand lives you do deprive
where were you when she died
terrorized when the judge whispered
1...2...3...4----