Spoiler
When I was younger a person in my family sexual abused me, but never raped me. It's a horrible feeling. Like you aren't even worth it for them to finish off the job. This poem is some what a reflection of that.
Images, flashes, fears, and nightmares
Pulse through me,
Haunt me daily
You took your
Nasty, sweaty, thick
Hands and grabbed at me
Touching every sacred
Part of me
Nothing is mine any more
No, you never put it
In all the way
But just forcing me to touch it killed me
Rough, hard
I hated it, still do
The shivers will never go away
Women aren’t just
Raped in the cruel
Sick world
Perverts like you
Make our world a living hell
By forcing your hands on us,
Our hands on you.
I can’t make the nights end
And days begin
I will be a mother
A grandmother and I
Will never forget what
You did,
Continue to do
At night in my dreams
At family gatherings
I smile, pretend
Pretend every thing’s okay
But secretly I want
To hurt you as bad
As you hurt my life
On my wedding night
I don’t want to think of you
But I will
My future husband
Picking up the broken pieces
Of your sick puzzle
I hope my screams
Will follow you through
Your life
You don’t deserve happiness
But I deserve, need
Closure
I will be whole again
I won’t be a victim
Any longer
