“I know not how to smile anymore” silently she said,
Glancing over nightmares of that night’s equation
Of her already messed-up schedule as ugly as a raid.
Being raped wasn’t part of her ideal life formation.
Giving ear she spewed out the bold bitterness bottled,
Her temple of blood and bones felt completely torn apart.
Apart from crawling out of her skin as she’s embattled,
The restraining; the choking and the hitting were her cart.
Imprisoned by darkness was she with her memories,
Wild panics attacking her engine of blood uncontrollably.
Spirit broken; mind with endless black hardened injuries,
Feeling dirty; ashamed and embarrassed so grimly,
But after that she said “a victim I was but now a survivor”,
So blame not the victim but the attacker, rape isn’t of favor.