November 21, 2010

  • Violated

    A violation that poisons your soul. It creeps and twists and hides. It knows your weaknesses. It whispers dirty pretty half truths and dirty pretty white lies into your innocent ears.

    Rape.

    It steals your skin and wears it like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It becomes you, until you are nothing in your own mind. It lays in wait, for the perfect moment to strike and bare its deadly fangs. It’s too late.

    I want to cut it out of me. I want to cut my skin until I can reach in and yank the demon out and rid myself of its presence. Until I hear its voice no more.

    It’s not silent.

    The lies become truth, dirty and pretty and filthy. Skin is never clean. Tainted thoughts until I am no more.

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