when it happened i was yielding
waiting waiting waiting
for someone to come i didnt know it yet
i didnt realize i was waiting grasping on to each breath like it was going to be my last
it happened so gradually i never once closed my eyes and shouted the word no
people take that as acceptance as if its such a black and white matter it is gray space and static it is no opposite there is no box holding me in or leaving me out
my hurt is not romantic nor is it happy hurt it is not hurt that i cry over because i cant give him that power
i wield words that are fiery with passion and anger and i cannot stand the way i tick because of his tainted black hands have molded my mind into thinking i am not good enough
his hands ruined my mind and started the process of self hate all over again
he called me beautiful like a greek statue and told my that my curves were something to love he forced me to eat and stay on my feet but at what cost
i let him see me and i bared myself my body to him instead of my fangs i did not scream no i didnt yell or claw like i should have
i did not know what to do but accept the attention i was young and naive and i did not know better
society failed me at one point in time because they never told me to scream no and bare my teeth and take my claws out and rip him to shreds
cut his hands off if he touched me at one point i failed myself because i did not listen and i did not know
days come and go and i remember parts but i forget some and its angry angry angry because how pathetic is it if i dont remember his face or what he said to me that made me love
how sickening is that that my heart expanded from the attention and gave out love to him like gum in school
i was so in love with the idea and theory of someone loving broken pottery like me no one tried to glue me together just temporary tape until they fixed themselves
i was in love with him being there at one am as i cried my heart out because someone yelled at me and i got mad too quickly my irrational thinking taking over
one time blood dripped down my finger because maybe if i was brave enough to cut the silky skin he described i was brave enough to shove pills down my throat or to pull the trigger or maybe hang from the ceiling
i guess i wasnt brave enough because i am still here today
on some days i feel a murderous desire in myself grow and i want him to feel the pain i feel most days i want him to feel the despair and shame and the regret there is an abundant amount of regret everytime i look in the mirror i am not the same person i was two years ago how pathetic and disappointing
no one knows but two close friends and on some days i want to scream the truth that was only accepted one a half years after it happened
his blackened hands did worse than kill me he murdered my mind and robbed me of my dignity he didnt leave anything for the animals that are better than him that stalk the night
he ripped me to shreds and refused to pick me back up some people try to sympathize but most give pity out like i surrendered my love to him some people try to relate and say they know what its like but they dont how could they know what its like to be stripped down bare and forced forced forced without even knowing what you are doing
how dare they have the audacity to tell me that know what its like when their experience wasnt even close to them i feel unworthy and loveless and so selfish on days that i cant even look at myself in the mirror how dare someone tell me that its so easy to get over when they havent cried over the thought of someone touching them like that
the worse part is that some days i dont even feel like its bad enough because maybe its not
i was yielding but now im just a fire about to burst in flames to take him down and no one is there to drag the ocean and put me out and at this point in time i would go down in flames with him if that meant him burning in agony