* Warning*
This poem contains graphic content that may not be suitable for all readers. Please be careful and have a friend proof this for you if needed.
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It wasn't what I thought it would be.
That night, the first of however many to come.
It wasn't violent,
No screams.
I wasn't being hit,
And in my head that meant it wasn't real.
That the fact my eyes were overflowing with tears, and I was shaking my head no; voice lost, too scared to speak,
Wasn't enough to make it what it was.
It wasn't bloody.
I almost didn't feel it.
I was just cold, breathing hard,
And then it ended.
But that was the first time.
And while I could pretend I was overreacting then,
you couldn't keep what a monster you were a secret.
Eventually,
I found my voice.
And while I wasn't screaming,
it got to where you,
were.
And then it got violent.
Bloody.
And that was the biggest mistake you made.
You made it real when you shoved my face into the bed, and gripped me, hard.
The bruises brought me back to reality.
And the more times I said no,
The more times you didn't care,
And the more I realized what it was.
It didn't matter that it wasn't what I saw on TV.
It didn't matter that it always happened in slow motion for me,
You changed.
And suddenly, those beautiful eyes were the only thing beautiful about you.
And I knew what that 4 letter word meant.
And when you changed into that monster I learned the most valuable lesson of my life.
A rape is still rape, even if it's not what you see on tv.
And the monsters under my bed aren't the ones I should fear,
it's the ones in it that can do the most harm.
C. G.
YOU ARE READING
No one is there
Poetrypoetry book. all the things I've written that I could never say out loud. Some topics may be difficult for some people so check for disclaimers .
