rage and recovery

did i do this to myself?

victims should not feel responsibility,

for the crimes against their stolen sanctity

are perpetrated by men who throw away

soft-spoken declarations and hard-fought agency.

but when these men have invaded every piece

of the past you try so hard to outrun,

the question circles your mind like a 

feather in the wind:

how much of this monstrous assault

upon the shell of my softest breaths

is brought on by my own struggle

with the magnitude of my worth?

can ill-intentioned men beat their bats

against the armor of a woman

who sees their assaults as weakness?

can a woman who does not understand

the absolute earth-shattering degree

of her own power and capability

ever be free of the exploitation

of men that wish to put her in a glass box

and display her as another conquest?

how does a woman who battles the clash

between rage and regret

wake up long enough to see

the sharp swords of soft-spoken betrayers  

poised to plunge into her chest?

and how much of the cloak of victimization

have I forced myself to bear?