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lizzie Jul 2018
I was bare;
Showing you the battlefields left
Of wars fought on my skin.
A scared innocent body,
Riddled with sacrilege.
I revealed to you my scars both visible and invisible
And you mapped each of them with your fingertips.

Your eyes locked with mine.
Inside the beautiful windows to your mind,
I saw you
Churning
With curiosity;
With wonder;
And your gentle gaze held me steadily
With the absence of lust.
And I knew I made the right choice.
lizzie Dec 2017
when your hands roam
my  body unwillingly
the first thing the police ask is
“so what were you wearing?”

as if that explains why
someone grabbed me
and dug their fingers into my skin.

as if a woman doesn’t have a right
to wear crop tops and tight jeans
that hug our bodies

my body is no one's prize
but a home where I should
be able to feel comfortable in,

not a home
I grow to hate
yet it seems as if the
world wants me to.

only when it happens do
people say it isn’t okay.
yet there was nothing done
about it.

everyone looks at you
in pity, as you try not to cry,
he said you gave consent,
that's a lie.

as women, we have a voice,
but our society teaches us not to use it.

no one is to blame but ourselves
we are taught to keep quiet, to look
and act as if nothing is wrong.
when there is a whole war going
on inside of us.

do you want to make me feel better?
don’t ask me what I was wearing.
take the man who scarred me,
give me and all the other girls
he assaulted, tainted. justice.

we sure do deserve it.
lizzie Dec 2017
to be defined by an assault
no person should ever endure.
it is more than just physical violation,
**** is an assault on your whole being.
scars go deep & you don’t understand how to heal from it.

saying no didn’t seem to have an effect.
the word lost its definition, it is one syllable, a filler word.
so now you feel like you no longer have a valuable voice.
one worth listening to.

you change, that person you were is gone
your body is just a shell of who you use to be.
you aren’t living, just simply alive.

— The End —