A poetic way of explaining what happened

That night I did not want to be with you intimately. I never did. You knew I craved affection because I was heartbroken. I just needed the comfort of being held and nurtured.

Instead, you took advantage of me in a dimly lit parking lot.

You lied.

As you lay on top of me, ignoring my tears and pleas and tearing me of my dignity, you acted as if you couldn’t even feel me attempting to push you off.

As if stealing my innocence wasn’t enough, you decided to steal me of the only protection i was given. As you ripped back inside me without the condom, i cried even more.

Every five minutes felt like an eternity.

Only for you to finish and leave my chest drenched with your salt water and leaving me in the backseat as you drove home and as i laid there.

Completely numb.

The events that took place that night never set in until I was returned home. My mouth had tasted like his and i was disgusted. The bruises on my body made me feel like i had nothing left. I was fourteen then, and as a survivor I still am coping with my sexual assault and I know, I had to be one of the strongest women out there (like any other survivor of assault) because i had survived.