PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

WARNING: This is a heavy piece of writing that deals with the topic of sexual assault through relaying a survivors experience of date rape. If you are offended or sensitive to this subject matter, then please refrain from reading this particular piece. 

 

To everyone else: I wanted this piece of writing to channel the various feelings, thoughts, and overall experience of what it's like to go through such a horrific experience. It's choppy, it's scattered, and it's devoid of warmth. It's as though you're watching these events occur, but you aren't really experiencing them. You're disconnected; dissociated. To the survivors of sexual assault, my heart goes out to you and I know your many pains. For me, writing about my experiences has provided more healing than any shrink or pills ever could. 

I'm always here to talk if anyone ever needs a listening ear, or sounding board. 

You're not alone.

 

-G.B

 

 

19 and naïve

Lonely

Desperate

 

She rides the 5E down the line

It's 11 PM

Past her bedtime

Work in the morning, she'll sleep in

 

One shot,

One night,

One boy who never paid her mind

 

Cold, it's the Dead of winter. She takes off a glove and fixes her hair

 

He's finally noticed her

She's coming at his midnight beckon

 

Houses with closed blinds fly past the window

Ever closer to her destination

 

her heart beats in rhythm to the bumping of tires over potholes

 

A man boards the bus,

waves a glove in her face

Crazy wide eyes and alcohol on his breath,

insanity pours out of a poisoned mouth

 

She sidles past and steps outside,

Cold air punches her lungs and leaves her gasping

 

She's walking

Walking

Walking

 

Towards the house in the middle of the street

 

The house he's waiting for her in

Waiting

Waiting

Waiting for his chance

 

Stopping at the porch, he welcomes her with open arms,

Tall and strong, enveloping her in a disconcerting embrace

 

They enter,

A staircase leads up

 

to a room

 

The room

 

The room with posters

And a laptop

And an inflatable mattress

 

'We're going to watch a movie'

 

It's not a question

 

We are

I am

 

I sit, but he wants to lay

His voice slithers wet and heavy in my ear

 

'You want it, but I'm not giving it to you'

 

My brain starts to ache

Confusion

Throat becomes sandpaper

I've forgotten how to breathe

 

I don't want it

 

Hands now roaming my body without permission 

Shallow compliments fall on me and explode in a queasy stomach

 

I'm going numb

His mouth on mine

This isn't how I imagined it

 

Fighting back against bile rising in my throat

 

When did I become naked

 

He tells me I want it

 

I still don't

 

What happened to the movie

I just wanted a movie

 

He's inside me

Everything hurts

His face is ugly

And I think I hate him

 

He tells me to shut up

 

I can't

 

A hand strikes me

 

Shocking

Stinging

 

'I told you to be quiet'

 

Strong hands now hug my throat

A violent embrace

I want to cough

I can't

 

Squeezing

Gripping

 

Spots dance before my eyes

 

Tears threaten to fall

Please don't betray me

Trying to maintain

 

I can't

 

 

He grabs my face

 

'Are you crying?'

 

There's amusement in his voice

It's a game to him

 

He soothes me

Wipes my tears

Before resuming

 

Mouth to my ear again

Hissing

Growling

 

'I love raping you

 

I love raping you

 

God it's good

 

Dirty whore

 

I know you love it'

 

I'm there for years

I think I flew away  for a few of them

 

Up

Up

Out of the room with the inflatable mattress

Out of my body

 

The body that rejected me

Made this happen

Nightmare

 

It's finally over

A lifetime has passed

I never knew a body could feel like this from the inside

 

I am dirty

Defiled

Hurting

Alone

Angry and

 

Betrayed

 

Now downstairs,  he pulls me on his lap

Another man is there and they casually chat

They're laughing

 

I'm sick

 

And I think he is too

 

Going home now

I'm back

I'm alive

(I think)

 

It's so cold

 

I work tomorrow

 

I'm going to sleep in

 

 

 

 

..............

 

Part I of II

 

 

This is the story of Larry Joe Prince

And the way Arizona stole his innocence.

It is written with hope that there may come a day

When a wise judge will grant him his moment to say

All the things so conveniently left out of court,

Made American “justice” look more like a sport,

With a high-priced attorney that didn’t think clear,

And the false testimony of one with much fear,

And the state prosecute thought “I’ll surely reach fame”,

He said, “Hell, I don’t care who the state wants to blame,

It’s a paycheck to me; I don’t care about truths,

It’s my ego I feed, I’m a low lying sleuth!!”

 

So they all drew their “guns” on that guy Mr. Prince,

Absolutely no shred of secure evidence,

They proceeded to send him to death row to sit,

For the murder of one that he did not commit,

And the biggest and worst sin of all that was done,

Was the way that the people held on to their “guns”,

They embraced all the lies to evade what was clear,

As revenge prevailed justice with each little tear,

And for those in the grave who just watch from above,

With no longer a voice to teach them that real love,

Is not proven by putting the blame on a man,

Just because he is there….cause the courts and you can,

 

See the proof of one’s love speaks out so very clear,

Even after the grave when one’s body’s not here,

You will hear their soul cry, and you’ll then know for sure,

If they’re resting in peace or they’re haunted some more.

 

There are families that hide from life’s reality,

The dead man in this case begs you hear his soul’s plea,

Make amends for the errors you’ve made in the past,

And put down all those stones, and those already cast,

If this dead man could speak he’d have something to say,

Of the circus that ran through the courtroom that day,

And if not for the dead man then do it for you,

Cause we all have to answer to God what is true,

Larry Prince knows he’s clear and he wins either way,

                              Cause he’s INNOCENT judge, the state’s in disarray.                                

So please read all with care on this day we implore,

Please don’t look at this life as a game where you score,

It’s integrity that is of stake in this court,

And it’s not mine or yours it’s this country’s that’s short

Of a quality no longer active today,

If it dies, it’s the lives of our loved one’s…they’ll pay.

Take your time, read it all, and be true to your heart,

And we’ll all pray it’s not too late for a new start.

 

 

Part II of II

 

 

They all loved cocaine but they hid it from Dad,

He just couldn’t believe that his kids could be “bad”,

So his eyes he did close, and they stayed tightly shut,

While his best offspring died with that stuff in his gut,

And they said, “It was murder”, and placed the blame there,

Yes, it’s true ‘bout that bullet and blood in his hair,

And the roots of that crime have been hidden so well,

By the real guilty ones with the lies they did tell,

For those self-righteous ones that just stared and stood by,

And condoned this deceit without batting an eye,

For the cowards that watched as the killers went free,

Be aware this could happen to you or to me,

And your sons or your daughters could one day be led

To a place where they wish they would rather be dead,

So now don’t be afraid to let truths in your ears

When your children are hurting with eyes full of tears,

Don’t you cower or shudder, don’t whine and don’t wince,

And remember the story of Larry Joe Prince.

 

Written in parts, from 2000-2002

Original Copyright 2002 

Registration Number / Date:

                   TXu001112792 / 2002-12-02

 

..................

 

07/21/13 ©

 

*

Crashing to the ground, side by side,

Sharing pain and distant apathy,

Two soldiers in a wicked war,

Battling against the world’s expectations,

Each in their own space, but it is too big to fill on their own.

 

Tongues lap on dirty pavements,

Cleaning the streets of all lies and truth.

Buried insomniac is restless beneath the concrete,

Noise cuts through him, as sight has no end.

 

They say it’s not right to be that way,

They are the masses of right, spitting at the handful of wrongs.

They judge and load bullets as they hand over the gun,

They shoot you before an epiphany has left your tongue.

 

All are wicked to the victim of war,

Collective drones piled up to make a wall,

Segregation is on the tongue of them all,

The only belief that matters is your own.