not knowing your victim is one of the
most torturing things to never
understand always pondering over how
your life cannot be that story never
wanting to call it rape because it
sounds so friend pursuing more of your
masculinity because femininity has no
safety sleeves drenched in tears from
the realization you can’t remember his
name because she ran so far away from
your past memories of the 12 year old
you are in the tool now the resurrection
of your heart is louder than your voice
and your forever run into that question
what happens to you but you don’t have
to forever say nothing further blaming
on your clothes how friendly you were
afraid to hear that cliche phrase it’s
not your fault went to you there is so
many faults but not embracing your truth
allowing another girl to save me to
thinking maybe you were welcoming inside
of your room I mean whoo praying nothing
develops inside of you unwanted like the
resemblance of his face like the heart
of his voice whispering you can say stop
but I’m gonna keep going
not knowing those be the words you will
forever replay in your head like the
wind from his mouth blowing through your
head body only are spreaded eat you’re
waiting to soar to the heavens
adolescents waiting to sprout like
rainbows after a thunderstorm a saved
soul after a baptism resting in a bloody
pit of broken hearts you still manage to
see the Sun Shine in through your
bedroom window still manage to smile
again to conquer to be more man than him
to never be a victim
your friends will never know that victim
he tried to make you
you
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