it’s so dark.
The air’s moist and smells of sweat,
but not a single scent of regret.
The feeling lingers
with marks and scratches from his fingers.
I, I taste blood.
But the flavor of his skin remains
in my mouth which he stole and claimed.
And I swallow,
then realize my lungs are hollow.
I choke down air
now that his hands aren’t there.
Now he’s gone
and I no longer have to play along.
my vision blurred.
But I still could see his face
as he threw me down into this place.
I am lost.
I was someone’s opportunity cost.
they just left.
Then I was all alone with him
and the room felt of grim.
Then it began
as he held me down with his hands.
Forever a victim of rape.
with trauma I can’t escape.
which will never be mentioned in the memoirs.