Uncensored

I always declare that someone

Somewhere, should speak about

Something, sort of, maybe taboo

Like how when I was fiveI believed my body wasn't mine

When I was seven, I was told"Women like this"

At age fourteen I met him

The third person who came

And felled the trees of my fortress

I grew older and hated more

Furious at this vessel of mine

At age nineteen, I was asked

What I was wearing, by a solicitor

Sixty-year-old male, fourteen-year-old female

But let's focus on my outfit

Someone should really speak

Speak about how we suffer once

At their hands

Then again as our minds punish us

Berate us for allowing the man

The person, the perpetrator,

To mould us like clay

I'd like to tell you about shame

It didn't belong to me 

But boy did I claim it

I scrubbed my eight-year-old body

Until it bled beneath my vigour

I hid behind my books

Until I hid behind alcohol

Until I hid behind a razor

While they walked, they walked free

Death claimed two of the devils

Even this did not liberate my mind

They break free from eternal rest

To haunt my mind, my dreams

Dates on the calendar are reminders

Places carry the weight of your ghost

Someone should really talk about this

Maybe someone just did.

Submitted by: WH and shared with permission.