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TW: sexual abuse. Poem about overcoming abuse. |
I have felt many strange hands on my body, Hands that were looking and digging for innocence As it were gold the Maya had hid. Hands that were trying to conquer territory that wasn’t theirs to take. Hands that without remorse left my body Marked and ravaged Hands that sacrificed my youth and innocence To the Gods of lust Leaving me dead inside with every thrust And after finishing, looking at me in disgust As if I had asked for it. No one asks for it. I have felt many cold stares Stares that were examining and exploring my body As it were the unexplored ruins of an ancient city One that knew of pain and secrecy. Stares that were trying to to decipher how much of a fight I was going to put Stares that decided I was theirs to take with one look And after the conquering, theirs to dispose of, As if i were nothing I am something. I have also felt love. Love that made me forget the genocide my body has gone through Love that has rebuilt the broken walls around my body And taken down the barricade I had put around it. Love that made me feel beautiful. I am beautiful. |