The Veins of Someone who said "No."

You are crawling through her veins

She will always remember you- her first. Her only. Never will she ever be able to compare her lovers to you, because you are crawling through her veins.

Seeping through the pores of her skin, you imprinted yourself onto her- you became the reason she stays up all night. Staring into the darkness-- her smile, painful as it it is, growing wider and more hysterical because she is going hysterically insane thinking about you- laughing hoping that you are just a dream, a dream, a nightmare.

You thrusted yourself into her veins and her body- injecting her with never ending insomnia, injected into her with PTSD,  injected her with the need to never breathe again in the process of your thrusting- but oh she breathes still- thinking about her bruised veins that she now tears into, that she now slits over and over to try and drain her veins of you-- her

muddy veins that you traced with your sticky tongue when she closed her eyes tightly and pretended she wanted it. Pretended that she said yes, just like you pretended that she said yes.

Inch by inch, moment by moment- her eyes shut tighter and tighter the world becoming blacker and blacker and darker and darker as you inched your way closer and closer-

Her thighs squeeze shut tightly at the thought of you- she can practically feel you squirming your way in between her legs as if you had the right to- as if you had some magical key that made it okay for you to enter as you please-- just because her dress came up just above her knees and she couldn’t say no loud enough after a couple of drinks you gave her.

She couldn’t scream it loud enough.

She only wishes she yelled for someone to come and stop you- she only wishes she was trying to reach someone who would- but instead she screamed at you for you- trying to come through to you- trying to bring your inner humanity out. But your excuse is that you are only human- only a boy, and boys will be boys right-- I mean it’s not like you have free will or anything cause that would be absolutely insane.

So now she, like every night, every second of every moment- thinks back to that night. She was touched by more than just rain drops- abused and torn into for wearing a crop top

Her poison skin was showing- poison skin hypnotizing- because skin has the power to make someone do unspeakable things-- right? It’s all her fault.

She should have worn a jacket to cover her scars- but oh wait- they didn’t exist until your nails dug into her back as she screamed the world into nonexistence. Hoping she was nonexistent- because anything is better than what she existed through what she tried resisting through.

Would have been a useless jacket-- don’t you think? You’d have found a reason to do what you did no matter what.

No matter what, you will be in her veins-- quietly creeping. And just as quietly, she’ll be in her bathroom tonight- tearing into her veins once again like every night, trying to rip you out of her like you ripped her soul out of her. And after, she’ll shower just like that first night you left bruises on her body

and scars on the bruises

and your name traced out in scars that are now left on her body.

one

after another

after another.

Layered--

forever remaining.

So she’ll shower

Once.

Twice.

Three times--

hundreds of times later--

she’ll still smell like you. And she’ll still see the layer of skin on her with your name written on it, your sticky saliva being the ink that you used to write that spine tingling

bruise leaving

scar writing name,

into the rest of her life.

So she’ll never forget about you- and you will always and forever be crawling through her veins, like the parasite that you and your kind of human are.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741