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indigochild Dec 2018
Am I a crumpled sheet of paper in the hands of my predators?
We are told a crumble sheet of paper can never be the same again.

My own thoughts strangled my voice as my body refused to listen to my brain
“No” did not come out. Apparently my kicking was not enough.

To touch my skin felt like fire burning through my veins, fire that ignited my predator
I never knew a sensual touch could feel so haunting.

Hopelessly sinking into the bed that became an ocean, water drowning me and continuously pulling me further down
Maybe if I surrender my body it will go faster.

Words disintegrating from my lips with the ashes of consent and destroying my trust for any human to touch my skin
How can I let another be this close when all I feel is you again?

Circling the drain of intimacy
I remember what your hands felt like. What if theirs feel the same?

I wear the damage like an extra layer of skin
This is deeper than just ***. How can I love again? How can I trust again?

My body used against me more than the number of fingers on my hand
Do I tell them? What if their afraid to touch me? What if I’m afraid to touch them?


They have to go.
Emma Rose Dec 2018
An independent woman is viewed as a disease
How dare I not need a man to depend on.
How dare I speak my opinion loud and proud.
Where did I gain so much confidence
Considering this society sends ads to attack my opinion of myself
And make me understand my place is to be small

As an independent woman
I understand my power when it comes to other woman
I can be a hand to help lift them up
Show them that we do exist
And to help them out when the men talk over her or mansplain her

However heed my warning
Men are ****** when we show our dominance
They call us *****
They laugh when we make simple mistakes
Because they’ve been taught
Boys will be boys
But women, must hold their tongues

~Emma Rose
anon Nov 2018
when the man that sexually assaulted me
laughed
because i said i was going to talk about ****** assault
i felt weaker than i
had ever felt
because suddenly
even though i knew what i wanted to say
and i knew i had a voice
i felt so little
and inconsequential
it was almost as though
he had stolen my voice
again
Vania Irene Nov 2018
i have seen too many women in my life
broken, bruised,
and wounded
by men who could not calm
their dck.
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 ∆
Elisabeth Sep 2018
She is brutal.

She will tear my skin,

Bruise my knees,

And blacken my eyes.



But she is also a gentle dove

And she can be kind.

When I succeed she gives me sweets

And gives back my missing pieces.



She is my mistress.

Her’s is the name on my collar,

She has the lead.

And she keeps control until she hands me off to him.



Though I know him not,

He will heal my body.

Let me have the control,

And finally give me peace.
Elisabeth Sep 2018
I see your gaze tunneled blurry

I know you only see my face as painted with a sharpie  

And see me as your dolly

Because I’m not real I’m just your pretty plastic body!

Ready to play whenever you demand Harvey.

Your ugly plastic words fall upon deaf plastic ears- but sure it’s a party!  

Underneath I scream and fight to stay sturdy.

I am not your dolly!

I am not just your pretty plastic body!



And I would not ‘look so pretty wearing this red lipstick with my lips wrapped around your ****,’ Harvey.
Anonymous Freak Aug 2018
I moved my bed
To the other side of my room
To help my sleep,
To help me feel
Like that wasn’t where
I was violated.

You would think that in the months
That followed
After I truly understood
What he had done to me,
I would’ve run from the bed
It happened in.

But no.

I spent most of my time there.

I quit my job,
And slipped in and out of sleep
All day, every day.
I shut down.
I spent almost all of my time
In bed,
Letting my life
Pass me by,
Because I couldn’t stand
Participating anymore.

That corner of my room
Across from where I sleep
Still haunts me.

Thinking of what happened there,
Talking
About what happened there,
Makes me want to
Burn the sheets,
And peel off my skin,
Rip off the face he kissed,
And staple my legs closed.
So that no one,
No one,
Can ever do that to me again.

Thinking about what
He did to me
Makes me feel like I have to throw up,
And perhaps that would exile
The fear in my belly,
And banish the memories.

When I was a girl,
I tried very hard
To fill this room up
With love for myself,
I painting the walls
With kind words,
I tried to turn it into
A sanctuary.

He tore down the walls
Of my boundaries,
My privacy,
My safety,
And my dignity.
He stole it from me.

I spent over a year rebuilding
And taking it back,
I was doing fine.
I want you to understand,
I was doing fine.

I bought new sheets,
And new underwear,
I moved my bed,
I got new clothes,
I got new medication,
And a new job,
And someone who loves me.

I was doing ******* fine.

And now it’s all crashing down again.
It’s fresh
All over again.

It hurts all over again,
And hurt isn’t a strong enough word.

I want you to understand
How horrible this is for me,
But I know you won’t.
And she didn’t.

All of that, all of the reopening, all of the **** pain, and she couldn’t even listen.
Maya Aug 2018
my body still aches.
when my mother hugs me
i tremble.

i don't like being touched anymore.
it reminds me of your hands
like spiders crawling
under my clothes.

i was so small
and you were so much bigger.
get your voice out of my ears.
saying
'Let it happen.'

in seven years, all the cells in a body
are replaced
which means
in six years there will be no part of me
that you ever touched.

i am counting the days
until then.
i am scared of what you've done to me
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