I write with wretched tenacity for the purpose of expelling my demons. I accept their ugliness and find sanctuary in their potent indentification of me.I`ve been writing since I was seven... that`s when I first wanted to die. There is a darkness in me that has been amplified through trauma. I have only recently gotten the nerve to publicate my poetry.I can only hope that the things I write could in some way ease the pain of other rape survivors and give them a little comfort in knowing that they are not alone.
He said “Hi” today.
Oh God, what did I say?
“Good morning” or something,
It was total instinct.
...
You follow naive and blind to the lies they spread.
You mind your manners and swallow what they`ve said.
They will narrow your options til you`re too tied to choose.
And after the devastation clears, who will you stand to lose?
...
What`s wrong with me is what`s ill in you.
You forced my hand and degraded my view.
And with a blade, you`ve placed me here,
Substituted my innocence with unending fear.
...
I see into you through your eyes, I see your true intention.
I can read your wicked mind, sins you`d rather not mention.
An immoral heart such as yours must squirm inside its cage
And fill your nights with tormented dreams of guilt and rage.
...