Below is the poem entitled The Last Time Part 3 which was written by poet
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She counts the seconds while she's standing there…
Slowly, she opens her eyes, staring at the floor, too scared.
She glances at her shoes, one is half off, they're both scratched up and untied.
She says it's okay, it's not that bad, just look up, she tried…
After wiping her eyes, she convinced herself she couldn't look that bad;
She moved her eyes higher until she could see the lower half… she gasped…
Her belt was unhooked and her pants were fully unzipped,
"No…" If she had been walking she might've just tripped.
Her eyes move higher, and she has to hold in her tears.
Her shirt is unbuttoned, half un-tucked, and she sees in her reflection all of her fears.
Everything's wrong, nothing looks decent, she sheds a tear… she's enraged.
She scans her face, her hair, her clothes. Red eyes, bruises, her body's a cage.
She wants to scream, she's hurting inside and out,
The whole world can assume what they want without a doubt.
She runs over to the last stall, crying and hitting the wall.
She pulls out the razor and cuts away it all.
But she can't, it hurts, but everything doesn't go away.
It's still there, still beating her, it's not gone, it stays.
She's so desperate to feel anything besides his hands and the aches
She cuts up her entire stomach with impulsive hysterical swipes while she breaks…
She's just sitting on the floor huddled in the corner, bleeding, crying.
She feels so alone, so violated, so ugly… higher her walls are rising.
She covers up the evidence as much as possible.
Wipe away the tears, cover the blood... almost impossible.
She rushes to her last class with her eyes to the ground.
Making no eye contact, no gestures, no sound.
The girl knows without a doubt that she's going to fail
So she doesn't even try... she gets yelled at... oh well.
She wouldn't dare attempt an explanation.
Just take whatever with no indignation.
Because what's on her mind isn't schoolwork and friends.
She can't stop thinking of his face... his hands.
After a week her feelings retreat back into hiding.
Because people want her to start confiding.
So she smiles, she laughs. But if you touch...
She may cringe, she may gasp... at least not much.