sexual assault

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i. he carved his name into my bones with claws under which my flesh festered. no matter how long i leave my bones to rot,
harass an innocent child giggles, shy smiles awhile hidden in forbidden chest of fanatical unrest.   harassed teen sowing seeds
He is a monster.His mouth widens to reveal three rows of teeth, and he is covered with blood.My blood.Even though he is hidden in the shadows, his pale skin shines through,Blinding me.When he walks into the light, his demon black eyes shift into a
Daddy, I’m scared. There’s a monster under my bed. And i hear his claws and his deep growl. Daddy, I’m scared. But you’re my brave knight!
Too close tooclosetooclose  Please don’t touch me  Oh god please don’t yell.  Too closetooclose. TOO LOUD. Too much.
When I was 10, While brushing my teeth I noticed my gums bleeding- And my mother told me That it was just bad blood leaving the body. That I’m doing such a good job, At respecting myself.
Red pours over my vision 
It’s approximately 11 A.M.I could sense that something was different, something was wrong.
Why didn't you fight back, they say.Why didn't you scream?Why didn't you run?You must have wanted it, they say.You must have secretly liked it.Otherwise, you would have fought
stop referring to my body as a temple because temples get desecrated and stolen from and i  can’t lose anymore of myself.  my roots are still reaching out to take back the things you’ve stolen from me.
i gave you a chance and you took it you made me feel beautiful and wanted for the first time in a long time   i craved your attention i caught myself in a trap i had been in before
How does one describe it? When someone they trusted   violates them? It's too difficult for me to say...what it really is. She took advantage of    the situation   and me, I guess.
He had red hair. That's all I can really remember.  Glasses. A beard maybe? He had rough hands.   I can still feel them on me. A monotone voice that said odd things   softly
Eyes heavy, body trembling, nightmares vast. She's harassed by the forecast of the past. Demons disguised in the form of lovers Until she discovered their true colors. She was used and abused, 
I am fifteen years old and I think I own the world. I have a boyfriend and he loves me. He yells at me but that is okay, he loves me. He shoves me but that is okay, he loves me.
i cry and i get nostalgic scrolling through old facebook photos each click opens an old wound every comment a shatter of the heart because i miss the girl i used to be. Long hair and a smile
Does no still mean no if its accompanied by an "I dont"? If it came out with a laugh dipped in liquor and exhilaration But ended in a chuckle soaked in fear and discomfort? Phone a friend to make sure I wasnt over reacting
Little Red made this trip as early as twelve. Her baggy hood wasn't enough to cover up from the wolves The feeling of shame, arising, the first time they noticed that Little Red wasn't looking too Little... anymore.
Once upon a time, there was a white chihuahua We found her and ended up keeping her She’s so small and fat and happy all the time
She awakens to a jostle of her cage Her small heart pounds against her ribs It is dark but for a few rays of light, even so she cannot see Everything is black, everything is dark
He was always a sucker for a pretty face They're always a sucker for a pretty face He took me to a place and fed me full of liquor and drugs He watched as I got sick on myself He got me a glass of water
                     And I see him in someone's sideways smirk,                               someone's endless brown eyes,                             someone's smile when they laugh.  
America isn't great, nor, will it ever be because We sexualize young women but tell them to wait until marriage.  she cringed every time your fingertips traced down her back, pulling her closer to you.
Imagine a world so unlike this one Where grimy hands were not free to cross lines, And no one experienced the sinking jolt Of panic caused by bad touches Brought on by loud mouthed musketeers
You indicated your crotch And told me To take responsibility For what I'd started But what of my responsibility To myself?
Who gave you the right to use us at your disposal? In the end,  you'll be alone--- like an empty vessel stuck with resinating regret.  Are you aware that you're leading to your own self destruction? 
I open my eyes to nothing.  I do not see anything because my face is against my pillow.  But I do feel something.  Hands, hands  exploring my body like I'm some kind of  unique jungle.
I remember the first time you did it The first time you made me feel like my body was no longer my own I remember the first, second, and third time you made me bleed or when I would hold back tears so you wouldn't call me weak and then you would b
Look, there’s a reason they call us “survivors” and “warriors.” We wake up in the middle of the night, eyes staring into the glow-in-the-dark stars we pasted long ago and weep.
Like blissful ignorance, the day was beautiful. The sun shone down, warming smooth baby-like shin the sounds of happy children  climbing toys and racing across green grass.  
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I told my mom when you touched me down there. You were only 7 and I was 8
I bleed coffee from countless sleepless nights and I can't tell if the bitter taste in my mouth is from my drink of choice or memories of his tongue. Maybe it's the aftertaste
When I was five my cousin stripped the clothes from my body. He put his hands on my skin, hands everywhere. When I was five I repressed it.   When I was ten or eleven
Don't shoot the messenger Unless she's a woman Don't shoot the mesenger  Unless her skin has become an invitation They scream at her She knows they're just words That couldn't be possibly understood
At night the same nightmare plays over and over. I tell myself that women shouldn’t think, not even alone at night, but the nightmare still prevails. I am sweaty and panting. My legs are sprawled open.
“your fingertips are dragonflies”   A dragonfly perched on my shoulder And crawled up my neck   I didn’t notice.   I sipped lemonade,
On March 19th I went to a party accompanied by my first love; my soul getter I trusted him This man I equated as an angel on earth   So when I drank too much
When I was 17 I was raped and ever since I’ve been saying “yes” even when I want to say “no” because I don’t know how to say “no” without being afraid that he won’t know “no means no.”  
It’s difficult, to say the least,that with dying embers follows,a shift to a sobering cease,leaving thy blushing touches hollowed.
Don’t cry for me mama, because you know I jumped for joy, When I was rejected from your Ivy League school, From a study that would bring security and down my world,
  The day he left was the day it all started That day I decided to tread into waters uncharted. I acknowledged how fun it was to be a sight that men drool to see
Brilliantly woven string of lies. Poison fierce  between your thighs dark. So dark  red with blood.  Cry alone shut your mouth. White angel wing save me now. show the world truth.
Men are supposed to love you.Hold your hand and tell you that you are pretty. He said I was beautiful when he held me by the throat and tried to slip my innocence into his back pocket.The words rolling off his tongue caught my skin like a zipper a
I’ve sat in this hospital bed for days 
Wondering, contemplating, thinking,
 Maybe I belong here. Maybe I am as crazy as you say I am. 
 Maybe I was asking for it. 

You can't protect them. You can't change the inevitable. You couldn't my fate Mom. You couldn't change my fate Dad. Everything that happened, God, it was bad.
I was with a couple friends of friends one day
My body is not my own.  As my 18th birthday approaches, so does my entry into adulthood As does my loss of agency. My value as a person will rest on how sexually appealing I seem My hard work? My morals?
When a house is dirty, we clean it. We sweep away the dust and scrub away the stains until there is nothing left to remind us of the wreckage
Late at night my soul cries and weeps .Laying i
A smile is not an invitation.    A young girl, only eleven years old Far too young to become a damaged good.  There was no screaming or shouting that day, 
I am not a toy. When you look at me, a body is all you see.
Once upon a time...             Not long ago...
When I was younger, my mother’s name for me was Doll. Her hair was golden thread, her eyes were glass. She would dress me and undress me, and hold my pink hands and sing, “How perfect you are,
I still am lost in the wonder of its beauty So sweet it is As it just lays there Deep in red valor   I want nothing more Than to freeze this time This time that is sacred and rare
this indignant poetry           I must    take a standI will be called      loud-mouthed hard-hearted              stars in eyes        sentimentality foolishness stemming from    stubbornness  
I was drunk.
Forgive me, for my spirit is scarred beyond recognition. 
I'm dirty, disgusting, defiled, broken, bruised, used, abandoned, scarred, and lost.   He broke me. I was not his. Not his to take. To hurt.
Did my clothes grow a voice box and speak for me?Because my own voice couldn’t be heard over your insecurityThe only word I needed was noWhen a child first learns the word no
I don’t want to be just another statistic.                 I suppose I am, either way you cut it, but I can’t stand to live with the evidence of it. The worst is this, I was never fully attacked.
Hot room Lights off Dancing in a foreign and familiar place. You come up behind me and you think I want it. You don’t ask me if those hands snaking up my ribcage and encircling my breasts are okay.
I don't remember how I met my best friend, but I remember That Day.  I don't remember how I felt when the lungs embedded in my grandpa turned to ash like the poison sticks he smoked, but I remember That Day. 
Her eyes sparkle like diamonds, A smile plays across her lips, Her hair blows gently in the whispering wind. No one knew the secrets behind her eyes.
I was unable to focus on what was happening. The cool summer’s breeze sending chills up my spine, The chlorinated water slowly pruning my skin. The memories arose, after four years had passed.
She was all yours. She was everything you wanted, Worth the world and more. She took care of you so well. Always waiting by the door. She was your number one fan, Begging for an encore.
Dear You, Since you all I’ve been able to hear are shots, For each glass that I’ve learned was a plot. Caught up in a YOLO generation, And dehumanized by your melanin fixation.
Lines Don't know where to draw them Not to cross them or how to drop them if she's fine Then so is the line Between mutual attraction And unwanted attention
I am NOT your Toy. My body is NOT ball jointed plastic limbs bendable for your covetous cock play
I used to think about that day all of the time No one knew but us three I was so young they thought I would not remember But I do
I'm sorry for being silent; for wishing you were gone, for wishing I was gone too. I'm sorry for standing idle; for not screaming your crime, for not loving my survival.
The violence is not predatory It is an intellectual attempt To prove the power of the predatory The rape is not intuitive It is a political ambition To seek office in place of the regulators of intuition
"My body is my temple" If we're going to use that metaphor It is a temple in ruins A temple weathered by wind and rain It is a temple with no soul A temple with no hope
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