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k Jan 2019
his words, they kept me silent
but the truth they hold is violent
i should have learnt
after enduring so much hurt
time and time again
a pure little girl back then
nothings changed except i’m not so pure
a problem not even a genius could cure
for the pain i feel is deep
like the secret i keep
hidden behind this smile
It is emotional and can really resonate with people who went through a similar ordeal x BE STRONG
mal monson Dec 2018
they let their sticky humid hands
hold my glitching hologram body
against the scratchy playhouse
walls and drag their clammy
claws where no child should
think to rub all the while
whispering into my vacant ears
how they would beat me and
bite me and cut me and kick me
if anyone were to ever find out
our little game as tapeworm
tears sludged from my sickly
sweet rotting eyesockets and
down my shiny shaking dust
stained cheeks silently over my
cold and closing throat and
when my dad finally ripped the
splintering wooden door across
the sandy shifting floor i was so
pale pink blue i could have been
six hours dead save for my
fracturing porcelain and
plexiglass heart destructive and
bashing and shattering itself
through my frail and brittle
crumbling ribcage whispering to
me how badly my dad would
scream at me for the way we
were playing
Tita Oct 2018
There was a time telling my truth was hard,
Stuck between sinking or swimming looking for a lifeguard.
It was weighted, and heavy slowly pulling me down,
But I thought if I open my mouth, for sure I’ll drown.
That you wouldn’t hear me but find holes in my story,
Throwing Daggered questions at me as punishment in this reformatory.
I have the Vivid memories, I’ve tried to make blurry,
Then there’s backlash from the self appointed jury.
But You DO know hurt people, hurt people that’s a fact,
I’ve done my share of hurting, but no never that.
See I’m not on trial just telling my truth,
Trying to create a better future, One that protects our youth!
My hope is that by sharing “This happened to me”,
Helps you realize it was never your fault so stop feeling guilty.
Because I won’t let them discredit you, it doesn’t matter when it occurred,
We’re not speaking because we’re spoken too, we’re dying to be heard.
I’ve extended my heart to you with words cleverly placed,
With each line hope you feel my love in a tight embrace.
At first it’s hard not knowing how to push through,
But YOU ARE A SURVIVOR , I know because I’m a survivor too.
As a survivor of ****** abuse my heart is with anyone who is, or has gone through it. You are not alone, and you are loved. I don’t know you but I love you. There is a way out speak up and be heard. It’s hard but we can do it.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
I was sexually abused when I was a child,
the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member,

but it was done,
and I don’t even remember,
as much as Christine Blasey Ford does,
nor have I ever had to testify,

all I remember was the taste of that ****,
and how it taste like buried secrets,
the way they ferment and rot,
when lodged in the gut and not allowed to surface,

see we’ve all been abused,
and not a single one of us deserved it,
so now we serve this life sentence of guilty regret-ness,
which in turn as positioned me in service,

oh America The Beautiful,
when did we become so broken,
everyone’s got a story,
of either being abused or abusing,

watched the Judge Kavanaugh hearing,
watched Dr. Christine struggle to retell her tale,
under the glaring lights of the TV cameras,
under the glaring stare of a bunch of older white males,

I mean let’s put it into perspective,
here is a lady who’s held this secret for years,
and then in an instant she was broadcast worldwide,
for the whole world to hear,

her life will never be the same,
she’s admitted her most private moments to the public,
and all because to the highest court in the country,
this demon from her past is about to be appointed,

and I don’t know what my point is,
maybe I don’t have one,
like a lonely kid,
who’s only role model is a fictional superhero,

because he doesn’t have an honorable father,

a lonely kid,
who’s only friend is his pet dog,
that he takes faithfully with him,
we he goes on walks just to get lost,

doesn’t have a destination,
still he feels like he’s in a rush,
can’t focus his attention and is always impatient,
and don’t know where to go and only wants to find the love,

and when he tries to speak up to tell someone what’s up,
he’s just dismissed as ignorant and told to hush,
and what does it mean when a ****** predator,
has the title of Judge,

how can someone that acts so immorally,
be put in a position to weigh the scales of justice evenly,
maybe there’s no right and wrong anyways,
maybe nothing is for certain and there are no guarantees,

maybe,
maybe not,
but I do know one thing for certain,
wherever I go the trauma from my past is brought,

because I was sexually abused when I was a child,
and the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member…

∆ LaLux ∆
Fog-grey paint on wood…
Sentry!
Imprisons willing hostage…
Safe!
It jars - jams handle door to floor
Uterine prison seals hermetic hermit

The fawn as naked innocent born.
Cow mother forages for food…
To earn!
Boy buck lay prone; ears twitch.
Waiting to exhale.
Wolf pants foul -  
turn handle -
entry permit?

On eves gone by wolf violates fawn.
Cow mother oblivious in her providing!
Crept in!
Kneeled!
As fawn feigned sleep…
Lupus leered, licked - abused like prey

This night young deer escapes the hunt
Lays quiet, tremulous.
Wets itself!
Chair holds!
Patriarchal coward creeps back to fetid lair
Brief reprieve?
Grow strong - pray another day!

©pofacedpoetry – Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) – All rights reserved
When the fairytale becomes the nightmare!
micaela drew Aug 2018
As the rain pelts my skin
I try to forget about the things you did
As your foreign hands invaded my body
I regret ever going to that party

My friends said that it would be fun
That I had nothing to lose
But everything changed
When I met you

Your eyes glowed so self-assured
Smile perfectly polished
Your intentions at heart seemed pure
But you were there to demolish

How many girls before me
have fallen into this trap?
Or is it me who will be
Alone on this path

Maybe someday you’ll have a daughter of your own
And get the call saying, “Daddy I can’t come home”
Because she is mortified by a choice she didn’t make
But was never educated to know it was called ****

For months I felt broken and battered
I wallowed in self-pity
Thinking I was tattered

When I finally realized
Opening my own eyes
I won’t let what you did
Ruin my dreams so big

I will stand on my own
And finally return home
Because what happened wasn’t my fault
But you have to live everyday knowing that you committed
****** Assault.
-md
Valarola Nikola Jul 2018
The demons just want me to be dead,
They want to bury the secrets in my head,
Sunlight kills their dark souls,
And there's no light to hold,
I'd give anything for a savior,
Give my firstborn as a favor,
I just want to not fight for every breath,
To not fight inside my own head,
I'm so tired, so tired, so tired,
And the voices multiply like a choir,
They tell me what to say,
To make everyone think I'm okay,
But inside I'm punching myself over and over,
And I try to quiet it by not being sober,

But you can't stay high forever,
I always nose dive and take a header,
Straight into the ground of which I bleed upon,
This life just seems played out and done,

I'd pray to God if I didn't think he'd forsaken,
This child of which followed him with other children,
But then I found the dark side of life,
The kind that has no spark of life,
Who's dull eyes stare out from sunken skulls,
Knees aching on basement floors,
Don't be fooled by the bible,
The devil is a female,
And she takes innocence,
While faking she's innocent,
So beware of golden hair,
And skin that's fair,
Because it'll make you wish for death,
For the rest of your entire life,

But you can't stay high forever,
I always nose dive and take a header,
Straight into the ground of which I bleed upon,
This life just seems played out and done.
YourNightLight Jun 2018
Little girl with the large, dark eyes.
Adorable & innocent, nothing to sexualize.
Man in black with the twisted mind.
Never thought or perhaps cared just how much he would put this little girls life in a bind.
She did not speak for a long time.
No recollection but over time, there's things she would find.
No justice was delivered.
No recognition, it seems.
Everyone has buried the trash.
No more talk about the past.
Hush, hush.
Woman with the large, dark eyes.
She holds anger & silently cries.
Hush, hush.
Keep it all inside.
Sydney Gretha Mar 2018
every 98 seconds
a person is shattered like a piece of glass
or perhaps in the view of the perpetrator,
used and discarded like a piece of trash
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