Infection

I sit watching the news
And you wonder why we don't report our rapes...
Our president
Like a word vomiting bulimic
"These women are cons. Just trying to get something."
Tell me, what was I trying to get.
First time.
I was 7-years-old
A girl
No
A child.
Mr. President, tell me what the fuck I was trying to get.
I told.
"What were you wearing?"
Black spandex leggings. 
Mom loved the 80's
An oversized 'The Linoleums' t-shirt
My brother's punk band. 
"Did you say no?"
Does running and hiding count?
Does pulling away while saying no count?
I was frozen in fear as this grown man pulled down my black spandex leggings
As his cold fingers caressed my vulva.
I was 7-fucking-years-old. I didn't even know what a vulva was.
I reported. And no one believed me or got me help.
We teach children to not report, because how can we believe them?  They are children.
Second time.
I was 25-years-old.
My thoughts raced.
I groped after them like memories in a pensive
But this wasn't Harry Potter. 
This nightmare was reality.
What happened?
It started out consensual. 
Did he know he raped me? 
Did he think that because I said yes and then said no, that only the yes counted.
I don't like my hair being pulled anymore. 
I kissed my rapist goodbye.
That kiss was the only katana I had left.  My bruised and battered body.
My sodomized anus, bleeding in my panties.
That kiss was my only weapon for safety
My body screamed
My lips trembled, I hoped he would confuse that for nervousness.
Did he know he raped me?
I could feel where he left himself on my body and where he took a piece of my soul.
I still do.
No amount of soap can bleach my skin clean of his presence.
No amount of sex from men and women can prove I am worth of sexual gratification
No amount of love can fill the holes in my soul
They are like an infection
An infection that has festered for years and has grown
seeping into ever crevasse of my life.
Now therapy like a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a knife.
Slowly debreeding the infection.
Maybe someday it will make room for my self-worth to return.

The Home of Depression

Loneliness

Hurt

Fear

Sadness

I do not wish to know these feelings so intimately again

I do not wish to wake up next to loneliness again

Loneliness doesn't let me leave the bed without carrying him through the day

Out of bed I climb and then we meet Hurt staring at herself in the mirror

She grabs a hold, connected her flesh to mine so that I cannot look in the mirror myself. 

Fear, he hits me as I try to get my clothing on. 

He knows we will have to be around people soon and is ashamed of Loneliness and Hurt.

Sadness awaits at the coffee pot

Sadness is quiet

She never says much. 

I keep my eyes low to meet hers

They are dull and sunken in.  

They are two grey blue marbles void of life

The weight of Loneliness, Hurt, Fear, and Sadness is crushing.  

This house of depression.

Healing Love

Healing love

A concept misunderstood until you

See, before you.

Love couldn't heal. 

Love was this twisted, tainted

Fucked instance of the acquainted

Strangers in reality

Though some refer to them as "family"

Love couldn't heal

See, before you 

Love for me was the perpetuation

of abuse and the abdication

of one's self

Then you showed me what love was.

Healing love

Now means

The way the fires of your heart meet mine

Cauterizing old wounds

Melting away icy walls erected years ago. 

Healing love

Finally, 

Joy where icy cold once was

I was numb to these sensations

Once dying from broken heart complications

I feel my heart beat

All because of your love

Healing love

Sounds

These sounds tell a story of love

Our sounds

Now separated by Thirteen-Hundred miles

Silence echoing the ache in my heart

Emptiness that was once filled by you and your sounds.

I miss 

the sound

of the way you breathe in and out as you sleep

Rhythmic and slow.  

In-one-two-three-Out-three-two-one

I miss

the sound

that you make when I kiss you with all my love

A deep groan

From some secret place of desire.

I miss

the sound

of your smirk

Yes it has a sound.

It's barely audible, but it's kinda a hmph.

I miss 

the sound 

Of your voice.  

Rich with bass, and it deepens as you get more tired.

It is at it's lowest right before you fall asleep on me.

I miss

the sound

of you being in the same room as me.

Your clothing brushing against itself

or how your feet scuff against carpet.

Or how you iron everything the same way.

I miss

the sound

of our kisses

Especially when you suck on my lower lip

It separates from yours with a *POP*

It made me smirk every time.

I miss

the sound

of the way you laugh.

It's a butchy giggle.

Unless I do something particularly stupid, then it's deeper and slower.

Or when you are being sarcastic

HA......HA......HA......... 

I miss

the sound

of being in the shower with you.

The way the water sounds as it hits your skin,

A soft pitter patter

Or the way it sounds as you vigorously rubs her hands through your hair

Getting ever last bit of soap out.

Or how the sponge sounds as you scrub you skin.

I miss

the sound

of when you look at me.

Deep breaths

Occasionally clearing your throat

or my favorite, the "MmmmmmHmmmmmmm!"

I miss hearing all the sounds I hear when I am around you.

These sounds are love

Our love.

I miss the sounds.

I hate you.

I hate you because you see right through me.
So open and so bare I cannot hide a thing
You know what is hidden behind these blue eyes
Xray vision piercing through layers and layers of
Barbwire and concrete emotional fences
Protecting my fragile heart.
I hate you because you see right through me.
I wish we could talk, but we can't
You worry, and I know it.
You try to not feel bad, but you do.
You see how broken I can really get.
I hate you for that.
I hate you because I
Can't be all broken inside
I hate you because I
Can't pretend, because you see though every act
I hate you because I
don't want to let anyone close
Yet you are there.
Damn you.
Private inner thoughts and feelings are no longer mine
You know truths that I would rather hide
I say nothing and you set off a nuclear bomb that wipes away
EVERY last protect layer I have been able to build.
Why must you look at me like that?
What must you see all the shit I don't want you to see?
Why can't you just leave me be!
Because you know.
I don't really hate you.
I feel naked and scared
A small child hiding behind grown up walls of resentment, guilt, and fear.
Do you see?
I mean do you really see me.
How can you stand to still be around?

Lessons I should know

Live like you don't have a tomorrow
Dance like your life has no sorrow
Scream like you can never be silent
Know Peace like their was no violence
Cry with your whole heart and soul
Smile like the world hasn't taken it's toll
Love like you have never been broken
Laugh like evil words weren't spoken
Dream like the world is yours
Talk like no one ignores
Be you, because that is the only thing you can do!

Beauty

Beauty comes in many shades

Though tragedy seems to fade

These colors

And as I sit trying to find my beauty within

I struggle to fit in

Feeling like a freak

Self doubt can be covered by a mask

Such a daunting task

I am exhausted

I let you see what I choose to show

Though know one can possibly know

What is going on behind these blue eyes

Fake it till you make it is a common phrase

But concern it does raise

in me

How do I justify those who commit actions that break

And Forsake

Who I am inside.

How do I defend the person I am today

And let the past wash away

When the past is thrown in my face?

I just try and navigate each day with grace

Though at times I fall on my face

But I at least know I have beauty

Despite scars on the inside and out

Despite all the times that I experience doubt

In me

I know I am beautiful

I know I am worth it

I know I am strong

I know that one day, I will fully believe

That I am beautiful.