I'm fine.
People look at me, the shell of the girl I used to be.
I'm fine.
That night, I laid in my bed and cried.
I'm fine.
That night, a piece of me died.
I'm fine.
I wore a smile, while living in denial.
I'm fine.
I screamed no, but he heard go.
I'm fine.
"Tell someone. Then, it'll all be done." they say.
I'm fine.
I lay in my bed, the events of that day running through my head.
I'm fine.
"How many times do I have to say no before you finally let me go?!"
I'm fine.
Cold hands across my skin.
I'm fine.
I slowly die from within.
I'm fine.
When will this feeling go away?
I'm fine.
I kneel by my bed and pray.
I'm fine.
The sky turns from blue to gray.
I'm fine.
"Have to go on living another day."
I'm fine.
I say to my mother, telling my story to another.
I'm fine.
I say to my best friend who says they're worried because I can't find it within myself to tell again my story.
I'm fine.
I say to my sister who cried from my pain, who saw me held down by the things I call chains.
I'm not fine.
I'm will no longer believe from the lie that if I stay quiet, I will be alright.
Because the monsters aren't under our beds anymore, they're on top of it.
I will no longer allow myself to believe this was my fault, for it was the man who put my in the category, "Survivor of sexual assault."
