(Claire takes to the pen; after months of not being able to process a sexual assault by someone she'd known for years, and feeling there was nowhere to put her feelings, she struggles to articulate it - no one knows, her heart hurts, and she's crushed with the weight of it but her words can't seem too carry the reality of the situation. Her poem breaks into free-writing in places because of this)
When I said no
He heard a challenge
Even though I told Him...
I told him... yet his persistence escalated my dread
But, before he even visited, I'd already said.
Ahead of time he had clarity, there was never a chance,
Yet his hands left a mark, as he took what he chose
His kisses left bruises, his teeth left their bite,
His breath and his smell, I was drowned in his throws,
Of his grip, of his bite, of his touch and his thrust,
Beyond that I was gone, my mind escaped - as a must
When I cried and left, He saw this as a chance
To rest and await a round two of his dance
When I said no...
Even though I told Him, I'd told him;
When I said no...
How else to say - wait, there's nowhere to go
With fear. Unstable.
I realise I'm home.
And he's here;
... We'd been drinking,
And I -
- am alone.
Then all of a sudden it was a morning hour
When I said no. (No. No.)
It wasn't in grey
But somehow feels ambiguous
In the cold light of day
I thought he would stop...
I can still smell him, still broken
Feel his pressure - feel his breath
months after, with night-terrors I'm woken
So with shame in my voice
And scars in my present-past
My expression... my articulation... is only through art
YOU ARE READING
Turbulence
PoetryA series of poems from the POV of Claire, whose last year has seen her survive both a sexual assault in parallel to a deep, intoxicating first love shrouded in secrecy and loss. During this turbulence and trauma she writes to gain distance and under...
