i didnt know you all that well.
you hung around some of my friends, though
and sometimes youd join the crowd.
i liked you from the little bit of you i saw, though.
i wanted to be your friend.
i didnt think much of it.
you were nice to me, whats the worst that could happen?
. . .
you asked me to come over that day.
feeling bad i didnt get to smoke the other day because the wait for the dealer was too long, you offered me a drink.
i thought it was sweet of you, for at least caring somewhat.
i had never drank before.
you were practially an alcoholic.
i didnt know that though. at the time, i knew almost nothing about you.
but silly little me,
still trusts you.
. . .
i got drunk quick.
you asked me about my scars,
the ones i slashed all over myself whenever i was upset.
i never minded talking about it or showing people if they asked, long as they werent fresh.
i took off my sweater, revealing my tiger stripped arms.
you offered me another drink.
lifted my shirt, only showing my scarred stomach. nothing more.
and you offered me another drink.
i pulled down my pants a little bit, showing you my cut up thighs.
and you handed me the glass again, filled with some kind of alcohol, probably wine maybe.
but i said "im really drunk. i shouldnt drink anymore."
but you insisted.
"one more shot for the team"
i didn't think it would hurt, just one more, right?
i relented, and downed the rest of the tall glass of bitter tasting alcohol.
i blacked out, seconds later.
the next thing i remember,
i was still on the couch, but i was only half dressed, my legs wide open and your head between them.
i tried to get away from you.
but i was too drunk.
if i tried to run away from you, i would have ended up killing myself just trying to walk back home.
i dont remember much of that night.
but i know,
when you were on top of me, holding me down while you used me like a sex toy,
i cried.
i told you to stop.
i told you go let me go.
but you kept going.
we only stopped because i was about to puke up all that alcohol all over your naked body.
even then, in your bathroom, puking for at least an hour, i laid there crying.
you just kicked me and told me to get off the floor.
when i got home that night, my parents could most easily tell i was drunk. i smelled like it more than anything.
when i told them what you did to me, they didnt believe me.
but they took me to the hospital just in case.
and i stayed there for two weeks.
when i came home, everyone knew.
all my friends, my lover, even people i don't even know.
fucks sake, there was a video that you took of MY BODY, that went around the whole school.
you broke me.
whats worse, is that i got over it. but no one else did.
my lover, was so angry.
and he took it out on me.
he told me it was my fault.
that i was stupid
i had no common sense
i was a fucking idiot.
he told me, though he loved me so much, he would never look at me the same way.
and i held onto that.
he was destroyed by it more than i was. and i was the one who had to go through it.
i get flashbacks whenever i see anyone with long dreads. silently praying that it isnt you. maybe im really not over it.
i hope it kills you to think about what you did.
though i doubt it does.
but it still kills me.
~ violated
YOU ARE READING
para ti || for you
Poetryin a series of poems, i give you an insight on what goes on in my head, regarding people, places, and memories i have experienced. some happy, most sad, but all the whole truth. this is for all of you, and if you ever see this, you know who you are...