To My Assaulter

Wed, 01/03/2018 - 21:13 -- jbeall

Dear the boy who took advantage of my love:

 

I loved your hair and the away it coiled around your beautifully sculpted face. The keenness of your cheekbones stood tall like mountains I so desperately wanted to climb and counquer. I could get lost in your soft lips, the crescendo of passion while they were on mine made me appreciate the orchestration of your being so much more. I'll never forget your prominent veins and how they ran like rivers on a map down your forearms and hands, inviting me to take a swim and drown in your touch. I would've tied weights onto my ankles if it meant i could spend forever in your waters. The two piercings on your left ear used to get stuck on my mouth when I bombarded your face with kisses, the bitterness of the blood from my freshly cut lips reminded me of how much it hurt to be with you.

How much it hurt. How much you hurt me. How now, if I see someone with similar features I break down, as if you're in every person, every man, and I will never escape you -- just how I couldn't then. All I wanted was to say no and to stop you, but fear stitched my mouth shut and I couldn't find the scissors to free myself. The strength in those veiny arms would never allow me to leave, I was bound to your bed, bound to my fears, bound to my tears, bound to you, unwillingly.

How I am now bound to street lights and daylight, never truly being able to stand in the darkness that swallows my vulnerability whole.

 

-Sincerely,

Jessica, the girl who you never even gave a second thought to. 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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