Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#nonconsensual
You told me you loved me Kissed me under the stars Slipped rings on my fingers Whispered lies to my face "It's fine to be scared of those things" Now "Who would ever fear a noise?" Don't you hear my screams You smile, pointed teeth I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid You told me you loved me Kissed me when no one noticed Promised you would stay Held me as if I was glass "No one should have to deal with this alone" Now Silence as tears slide down my cheeks as you watch Don't you see my face You smile, pointed teeth I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid You wrapped me in your red hood, Promised I would be safe when I wore it, Lies. Lies. Lies. You took advantage Took me If I never said yes Then why do I feel so guilty I never said no Then why don't I feel free You snarl now I wish I could bite you back, wolf.
0
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 12:18 AM UTC
wolf
“What’s the harm?” they whisper, _“What’s the problem in being everyone’s fantasy?”_ “In having all of your friends find your flesh attractive?” “Having the pretty privilege morph into the entitlement of others?” As they claim my skin and caress my bones. _Peeling pieces of my body and making themselves at home._ _Consent is implied within the lines of whatever bond we hold._ Friends, family, lovers. What’s the harm in giving them what they want, what they demand they need. In watching them eat you up With a never ending greed. “But you’re my fantasy” _as if I’m obligated to the impressions of me you’ve shoved down my throat._ Until I’m choking and sobbing pleading you to relinquish your hold. Your eyes leave imprints and bruises as you salivate over a body I don’t even see. _It was only 3rd grade._ Again, when merely rending the damaged goods of a teen. By the time I was an adult it was the only way I was seen. _But age matters not, when you were never perceived as a human being,_ simply a desire for others to devour. “What’s the harm in being a *** dream?” They scream “we’re all friends here” as they render my sobriety to shreds _Only to tell me that it’s all in my head._ Society taught me to turn a blind eye, “what’s the harm?” It said with a sigh. _They drugged me with ignorance,_ refuting my plea. A passing inconvenience for you Born of my own naïveté, is a trauma memory _that I can never undo._ There isn’t a piece of me you’ve not seen, _nothing left of myself to discover._ You’ve rendered my own exploration into nothing more than a detour. You’ve taken every first I could have claimed _and thought to beat a dog was the equivalent of making it tame._  So now I’m sobbing into a void wondering why I was _ever_ a thing that you could destroy?
0
Mar 1, 2025
Mar 1, 2025 at 12:57 AM UTC
“What’s the harm??”
“What’s the harm?” they whisper, _“What’s the problem in being everyone’s fantasy?”_ “In having all of your friends find your flesh attractive?” “Having the pretty privilege morph into the entitlement of others?” As they claim my skin and caress my bones. _Peeling pieces of my body and making themselves at home._ _Consent is implied within the lines of whatever bond we hold._ Friends, family, lovers. What’s the harm in giving them what they want, what they demand they need. In watching them eat you up With a never ending greed. “But you’re my fantasy” _as if I’m obligated to the impressions of me you’ve shoved down my throat._ Until I’m choking and sobbing pleading you to relinquish your hold. Your eyes leave imprints and bruises as you salivate over a body I don’t even see. _It was only 3rd grade._ Again, when merely rending the damaged goods of a teen. By the time I was an adult it was the only way I was seen. _But age matters not, when you were never perceived as a human being,_ simply a desire for others to devour. “What’s the harm in being a *** dream?” They scream “we’re all friends here” as they render my sobriety to shreds _Only to tell me that it’s all in my head._ Society taught me to turn a blind eye, “what’s the harm?” It said with a sigh. _They drugged me with ignorance,_ refuting my plea. A passing inconvenience for you Born of my own naïveté, is a trauma memory _that I can never undo._ There isn’t a piece of me you’ve not seen, _nothing left of myself to discover._ You’ve rendered my own exploration into nothing more than a detour. You’ve taken every first I could have claimed _and thought to beat a dog was the equivalent of making it tame._  So now I’m sobbing into a void wondering why I was _ever_ a thing that you could destroy?
Continue reading...
64
My relationship with life is nonconsensual Now-a-days, a cancelable scandal The back and forth we share is not equal My portion is shameful Should have never taken it past casual That's when it took control Thoughts creep in of the unforgivable Turning out the lights on this carnival The last note I jot on my last thought pressed to vinal Drop the needle at the funeral ©2024
0
Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 8:27 PM UTC
~•§•~ Drop the Needle on the Last Note ~•§•~
Dear Dad, That’s all I ever wanted you to be. A dad, my dad. I didn’t expect you to be a great dad, or even a good dad, but you never made any attempt to be anything close to a dad at all. You did try to be other things to me though. A dictator, a manipulator, even a ****** partner. You may say that I wanted it, you might even actually believe that, but I assure you that my compliance was not an indication of my enjoyment. Compliance was simply the only option you gave me. I saw the way you looked at me long before you ever put your hands on me, but you waited. You waited until you’d pushed me to the brink of insanity. You made me question my reality so much that I’d believe anything you told me. Then on top of that, you found a way to make everyone in our family question every word that I ever uttered in preparation for the day that I’d tell them what you’d done because you knew that eventually, I would. You planned out every piece of what you did so perfectly. Even after I’d come out with the truth you made sure that the walls around me crumbled before yours did. All I ever wanted was for you to be my dad, but you couldn’t even give me that.
0
May 10, 2023
May 10, 2023 at 5:57 PM UTC
Dear Dad
They say life is a highway, I say it’s a battle. I love to drive yet not one ounce of my being wishes to drive upon this highway any longer. Battles tend to be fought with an army, yet here I stand alone. Why do they force their essence into my being. Why do they require physicality from me. This is not something I wish to give. Leave me be, and my body too. The last thing I want is to smell your scent in through my skin. I do not wish to taste the bitterness of your personality that you feel so kindly to force me to do. If you want me to drive, let me drive. But I refuse to drive anywhere near the highway which you built. That highway is not made for my kind. That highway is what turns beautiful souls into broken ones. The filth in my bones is seeping out, overflowing into the street. I try to wash this filth away. Eye’s closed. I do not wish to see this filth. Just let it be gone already. I am sick of fighting this battle. I have had enough of fighting. You have succeeding in consuming my entire being with the filth you forced upon me. Buried deep. So deep. I never knew the deepness of myself, let alone the depths of my despair. I never chose this. Why should I have to live this. Why should I have to keep my head up and carry on. How does your head hang? Between the ties of a noose? It should. Worthless. Powerless. Disgusting. Damaged. Numb. That is what I feel. Yet in reality it is what you are. I know you don’t have power over me. All this time I have been fighting. This battle does not deserve to be fought. You cannot hurt me. I refuse to let the gravel of your highway slow me down or make me crash. I will not crash. Not for you, not for anyone. It is my time to grasp the wheel. I control my own vehicle, not you. I will not allow you to climb into the driver’s seat. You will not place your hands on, or anywhere near, my steering wheel. The vehicle may seem broken, but it is not. It just needed some TLC. Push me again, I dare you. Watch yourself be ran the **** over. I will not wait. I will not spare you.
0
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 12:08 AM UTC
highway vs car
They say life is a highway, I say it’s a battle. I love to drive yet not one ounce of my being wishes to drive upon this highway any longer. Battles tend to be fought with an army, yet here I stand alone. Why do they force their essence into my being. Why do they require physicality from me. This is not something I wish to give. Leave me be, and my body too. The last thing I want is to smell your scent in through my skin. I do not wish to taste the bitterness of your personality that you feel so kindly to force me to do. If you want me to drive, let me drive. But I refuse to drive anywhere near the highway which you built. That highway is not made for my kind. That highway is what turns beautiful souls into broken ones. The filth in my bones is seeping out, overflowing into the street. I try to wash this filth away. Eye’s closed. I do not wish to see this filth. Just let it be gone already. I am sick of fighting this battle. I have had enough of fighting. You have succeeding in consuming my entire being with the filth you forced upon me. Buried deep. So deep. I never knew the deepness of myself, let alone the depths of my despair. I never chose this. Why should I have to live this. Why should I have to keep my head up and carry on. How does your head hang? Between the ties of a noose? It should. Worthless. Powerless. Disgusting. Damaged. Numb. That is what I feel. Yet in reality it is what you are. I know you don’t have power over me. All this time I have been fighting. This battle does not deserve to be fought. You cannot hurt me. I refuse to let the gravel of your highway slow me down or make me crash. I will not crash. Not for you, not for anyone. It is my time to grasp the wheel. I control my own vehicle, not you. I will not allow you to climb into the driver’s seat. You will not place your hands on, or anywhere near, my steering wheel. The vehicle may seem broken, but it is not. It just needed some TLC. Push me again, I dare you. Watch yourself be ran the **** over. I will not wait. I will not spare you.
Continue reading...
54