"Art is a mouthpiece.
When all reason begins to fail.
Where does it come from?
Is it the rain of sadness or is it the pain?
Is it grieve slowly pouring in droplets?
Or is it trauma roaring like flames?"
- "What if l were an art ?"
"Hearts and Chao...
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There were times when l would often wonder:
What were you thinking back then?
When your hands reached out for me?
Were you looking at a young girl barely sixteen?
Was I the only one? or were there more before me?
Three seconds.
Who could possibly have known?
That it can happen in such a short time.
All I know that it is enough to crush someone
To the worst level you can possibly imagine.
Three seconds.
Vulnerable and mute, you knew I was an easy target.
I would never tell a soul, you'd tell yourself.
No one can see what happens in three seconds,
And you knew that already.
Three seconds.
Did it actually happen?
Or was it just me?
It couldn't have happened, can it?
Maybe I was going crazy.
Just imagining things. Maybe hallucinating.
I would have tried my best to forget it.
Had you not done it for the second time.
Three seconds.
It made me wish it had never happened.
I froze as l watched the events unfold before me.
Was it real or was it a nightmare ?
Your callous hands reached for my body.
Like it was the most trivial thing you ever did.
How easy it was for you to destroy.
Three seconds.
I remembered guilt washing over me.
Like a huge wave, almost drowning me.
I didn't know how to breathe.
What should I be doing?
I wish I were brave enough to know.
Three seconds.
The world of rose coloured glasses shattered before me.
I no longer knew what was real anymore.
Trust is a word so far fetched
It becomes almost bleak as a foggy night.
Three seconds.
Your hands leave me.
Your face grinning so casually.
Like it had never happened.
Like you never did that to me.
Time only stopped for three seconds
And then just like that
The world carried on like nothing.
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Dear Readers,
Thank you for taking the time to read this poem. It means a lot to me.
This poem was very painful to write down but I believe that was necessary to acknowledge my own traumatic experiences that had been buried within me for many years.
The person who did this to me is no longer alive now. I wrote this poem as a way of moving on from my past experience.
To those who have been a victim / survivor of rape or sexual assault, please do not hesitate to seek help.
There is always going to be a light at the end of the tunnel.❤️
