The Book I'll Never Write

Chapter: Dry Bones

These are more poems, but these are kind of dark. There might be triggers here, so read with caution. If you or someone you know has been abused, hurt, raped, anything; please speak up. You're not alone, you can always talk to me if you need someone.

They say consent

Is important

They say that

You have the right to choose

What happens to your own body.

We have been taught

To fear the word

With four letters

And an R to begin it.

One syllable

Short.

Simple.

Endless.

It destroys innocence

And cruelly rips

Any shred

Of

Light

From your soul.

You think you can

Trust

But men don’t like taking

No

For an answer.

You could have

Fought

Harder

Screamed

Louder

Done more

You could have stopped it.

Do you know the meaning of forgiveness?

I’m sorry.

It is no longer

My job to forgive.

I have forgiven and

I have let go and moved

On from things that have hurt

Me to the point that I am destroyed.

And yet

I still forgive.

I will always be

The one to say that

Im sorry even when it

Was never my fault to begin

With.

How

Could you

Possibly know the

Meaning of forgiveness when

You have never been sorry in your

Entire life?

Dry bones

that’s all I am.

lost and living

in a dry home.

The epitome,

perfect depiction,

always in the same role:

the victim.

nobody sees

what’s haunting me