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(warning: There may be two of these but I wrote both. Just one was before I signed up to have an actual account.)
I feel the phantom hands linger on my skin.
Ravishing their way over my body,
as they claim what is not theirs to claim.
They leave no trace, yet the feeling of slime.
The pain is ingrained in my muscle memory,
squeezing tight against the unwanted entrance.
A sword plunging into my soul with powerful thrusts
leaving me leaking; wrecked and red.
No, ow, and hissing breaths mean nothing to the ear.
I lay a sack, a hole, a toy ready to be put to use.
Enjoyment is but a one sided blade,
piercing with apologies and sheathed with "it's fine."
A cloud encompassing a passing daze,
full of confusion and refusal of my coming of age.
Charming chatter masks the darkness done inside me.
My worth now shattered and pieces lost forever.
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1) from a pure literary standpoint, this is excellent
2) from an empathetic standpoint, I am so very sorry that you experienced this; as a woman, I can understand your pain, and you are in my prayers
ReplyThank you so much for the kind words. They are greatly appreciated
Reply