Nobody Asks

Because nobody asks about his fingertips
bruised inside my thighs.
Not about the way I couldn't speak,
or my muffled desperate cries.
His body pressed on top of me,
my breathing starts to slow.
No one ever asked,
no one will ever know.
The feeling that comes after,
the feeling of pure shame.
Did I really let that happen?
Am I the one to blame?

Nobody ever asks about
the state that I am in.
How it feels not to feel safe,
not even in my own skin.
I try so hard to shut the memories out,
afraid of where they lead me.
Back to that September night,
back to when he deceived me.

Because nobody ever asks about
how he visits me every night.
He's not there in person,
which means I cannot fight.
Yet in my dreams he is as alive
as he will ever be.
My arms pinned to the ground,
fighting just to be free
of his unrelenting stare
right into my soul.
Enjoying all my pain and
the treasure that he stole.