Don’t nobody know about this sticky situation.
Cause if they knew you would be in a ditch or be caged into an infested cell
And I think I would be out casted onto an island of public denouncement and self betrayal.
You veraciously duck taped my brain and I contently stapled my lips shut.
I wish I could choke up the words, “I need help” to anyone that would listen, but I am scared of the aftermath.
The acid rain that will flood the streets, flood the station.
Rape my mother’s heart and kill the nation.
If I could flood change on my life I would transplant Hulk like strength to myself, so I could pry your brolic hands from my thighs
And so that I could express the depression that you brought into my life.
I would stand on top of the Statue of Liberty and scream out all the rage that bubbles in my skin and clear my mind of all the pain and images of you.
I would change the helplessness that I feel whenever I watch the news and hear that another little girl was touched.
I would unite with every other victim, wipe the tears from their eyes, and in unison we would shout out all the perverse things that were done to us.
And after we reveal every detail of the horrific story the men in suits would capture all of you animals and bring you to the real jungle, in which the only thing you’ll experience is pain and hell in a closed off cell.
All of you monsters will see how the roles will reverse, once we find the courage to speak up.