My sunken eyes are closed;
Tears start rolling down my face.
I take another shot of whiskey,
And my head starts to race.
Cigarette smoke fills the air.
My body is numb.
I can no longer feel my toes.
I stare at myself in the mirror.
Scratches.
Dried blood.
Purple bruises around my neck.
Red lipstick smeared across my face.
Hair full of knots.
I shove more pills down my throat,
And chase it with three more shots.
My body is beyond broken,
And my mind is completely lost.
A lesson with a price,
Myself an expensive cost.
He was strong and heavy,
Like a brick on my chest.
I couldn't get him off top,
With a hand over my mouth,
And a hand around my neck.
Inside I was screaming,
But physically I was silenced.
His lifeless eyes watched me,
As I fought hard and cried.
He crushed my soul over and over,
As he thrusted deeper inside.
The world around me comes back,
And I'm beyond fucked up.
It's raining,
But I don't know where I am.
The bottle is empty,
And the room is spinning.
I pick up a razor,
And rip it across my skin.
Blood spills from my veins,
And everything starts to slow down.
I weakly smile as I stare,
At the broken body I just escaped.
Indeed an expensive cost,
For the price of rape.
YOU ARE READING
The Intimacy Of Being Understood
PoesiaAn intimate look into the darkest depths of my life. These poems are the embodiment of trials and tribulations of growing up in today's society. I hope these stories bring hope to those who have lived through similar situations and tragedies. Always...
