The stench of shame fills the air
Tears fallen choked her words
Laying in a pool of red
Her massa had stolen her innocence
Bruises decorated her already scarred flesh
A mark of ownership
A sinister smirk sends shivers
As the white man admires his coloured canvas
Pride engulfs him
Watching her struggle against the shackles
Her screams silenced by his hands around her neck
As he brutally ravages her again and again
He whips his initials onto her untouched back
As a reminder that he also owns her flesh
She had no autonomy left
Her insides felt dirty, poisoned by the white man's lack of mercy
With every violation her grip on hope was slipping
Until she fell into a numbness unending
A shell of who she was
She was forced into a life of silence
Held captive by the punishment of violence
That day a lesson was taught on how to live a life on mute
i remember being a child
longing for someone to hear my scream
a scream i never screamed
a cry i never cried
feeling like i was the only one with eyes
wishing someone was wise enough to see
what was happening
begging someone to realize
how broken
my lonely heart really was
A voice recorded, soft but clear,
Echoes pain we failed to hear.
Hannah spoke from shadows deep,
Of secrets buried none should keep.
A hallway's whisper, locker stares,
Unseen wounds and empty chairs.
A photo passed, a cruel slight,
Each reason dimmed another light.
Justin's love turned into blame,
Jessica’s tears, the haunting shame.
Bryce’s smirk, a predator’s grin,
The silence loud—it let him win.
Clay rewinds but can't undo,
The paths they crossed, the truths they knew.
Mr. Porter, blind and slow,
Let chances slip and let her go.
Zach took notes but not her cries,
While Tyler's lens revealed the lies.
Alex sank beneath the weight,
Of guilt, too heavy and too late.
Thirteen stories, thirteen names,
A map of hurt, a trail of flames.
In every voice, a fractured plea:
“Would someone have stood up for me?”
he said its not all men,
but whilst that is true,
why would you pick this precise moment to make it about you,
it's not all men,
but it's almost always someone we know,
every woman has something she can contribute to the horror show,
whether that's crossing the street because there's a man behind us,
or sitting with a jacket over your legs on the bus,
it's not all men,
but it's enough men,
that's why we feel scared,
that's why we walk onto the street prepared,
checklist in hand,
ensure I can grab everything on command,
pocket knife,
check,
pepper spray,
check,
keys between fingers,
check,
oh, and I mustn't forget to walk with purpose,
never show off the way that I'm nervous,
oh, and I mustn't forget to cover up,
because after all I don't everyone to erupt,
what were you wearing?
is there really a right answer,
should we really be comparing,
comparing my clothes to the disaster,
the disaster the society is in,
but after all it's not all men,
but then again,
not all snakes are venomous but it's hard to tell which ones are,
so you're cautious around them all to avoid leaving a scar
A poem so moving, luring tears to fall,
when our tears are formed in our hearts beating blood.
With each beat those words repeat this dreaded call.
Rip and tear scars of past pain causing a flood.
Feelings long suppressed made brighter to recall,
each stitch removed; prying petals from the bud.
Yet there's healing power in water and salt!
Tears cleanse, wounds mend, in this poetic assault.
I still remember the day you stole my innocence away.
The world shifted—
colors drained from golden light to endless shadow.
It started as a simple conversation,
slowly pulling me down to your basement.
I was only 13 years old
when you left me to walk home on shaking legs.
At first, I thought I deserved it—
because fear stole my words before I could speak.
You stole my voice, my innocence, my dignity, leaving me with nothing but fragments of myself.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse,
it did.
Another man used his hands,
leaving me with bruises and broken ribs.
He said it was because "he could."
But my story didn’t end there—
I would never allow it.
I was left with scars, but never silence.
I am a survivor, not a coward.
Hiding Place
After the beatings your darkness was
my protection. My source of comfort
after the sexual assaults. Hanging clothes
were a curtain against the evil.
Blankets on the floor held me close
and secure. As a child you were my favorite
friend. My hiding place.
There were six witnesses when the police arrived
The detectives took their statements
Six ethnicities were mentioned.
How many perps?
One
Two said he had a long face; one said she had a round moon face.
Eye colors mentioned were blue, black, green, brown and amber.
One said he saw a dragon tattoo; no one else saw it.
The detectives looked at each other.
The only thing the witnesses agreed on was that the man had been assaulted.
Knocked out of his wheelchair – clobbered, slapped, kicked, slammed, clocked.
The old man had impaired eyesight so he was no help at all.
Or as much help as the others.
Are the feelings meant to subside now you have gone?
What if I still lay petrified in my bed?
Is it supposed to get easier as time goes on?
Cos I still carve your initials in lines of red
I don't want to feel you anymore.
As I hear you creep.
I want to be done fighting this war,
That I fight in my sleep.
I’d let the police file their case,
But in my mind you stand by the door
Trapped in a room face to face,
While I cry on the floor
Another year passes by,
It always comes round quick.
Must force my tears to dry,
In between feeling sick
Leaving your debris
And left your mark,
You pushed yourself into me,
wish you’d done it in the dark.
That way I would have seen less
The flashbacks wouldn't burn so bright.
But these feelings I will suppress,
As I fight through each night.
Singing is an art
So hard to understand
But let me sing you a song
Of a girl who was greeted by adulthood
Far too soon.
Her young hands tremble
Under the weight of what they carry
A burden she longs to unload
Yet dizziness pulls her back
To the very place where innocence was lost.
On that bed, a faceless man
Crushed her beneath his weight
Her weak legs resisted
But his desire was deaf to her cries
Mistaking her sobs for moans.
No one believes her story.
For there was no face to blame
And fingerprints fade like whispers
So she walks with fists clenched tight
Bearing a burden no one can see.
The lyrics to this song will live on.
STOP SENDING ME TERRORIST THREATS YOU WERE HIRED TO IMPERSONATE ME AND COMMIT FRAUD WISEGUYS ARSON MURDER CIRO GARGANO HIS BROTHER PETER GARGANO WHO FAKED THEIR DEATH TO PAY OFF CORRUPTION AS BOB MARLEY WOULD SAY SKANKNESS BACK OFF STOP CORRUPTION DATA BREACH HACKING IDENTITY FRAUD INSURANCE FRAUD MAIL FRUAD WIRE FRAUD CYBER BULLYING I WILL NEVER FEAR DOMESTIC TERRORIST IN AMERICA JAHORE IN A WHITE TAHOE YOU ATTEMPTED TO EXTORT MY AMERICAN POETRY YOU ATTEMPTED TO ASSASINATE ME BECAUSE I WORE WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM CORRUPTION TO INSURE ASSAULT WEAPONS NEVER EVER END UP IN THE WRONG HANDS JAMAICAN WOMEN WEARING RED DREADLOCKS CARRYING GUNS POINTING 9MM AT MY TOWNHOME DOORS BY GODS GRACE YOUR HITMAN WAS KILLEDVAT MY FEET TAKING DOWN PROFESSIONALLY JUST LIKE TRUMPS ASSASSIN MEXICAN ASUMANDEZ SOLTERO VIOLENT OFFENDERS WOMEN WITH BUTCHER KNIVES BLOOD WAS EVERYWHERE MY PRAYERS ARE WITH DONALD TRUMP MY WORK WITH THE FBI UNDER THE BRADY BILL STOP ASSASINATING AMERICANS INCLUDING CONFIDENTIAL HUMAN SOURCES I WILL NEVER EVER FEAR YOU GOD BLESS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
When the devil comes
For you
He will be in disguise
To take you by surprise
And free you from
God’s defenses
Trick the trust
You have in your senses
The devil he cheats
Wins your trust by deceit
Rachel Marchand
I need you to understand
When i come for revenge
The only question you need comprehend
Is whether I will give to you
What you did not give to me
The opportunity to fight back
I felt that it was all my fault
But i am the victim of sexual assault.
Nobody seems to see it that way
I wish I could just fade.
I was quiet for what felt eternity
But I found peace in that impurity.
I really wanted to show what was going inside me,
But rather they eyed me,
I found none to whom I can confide in,
Because no one could understand my silence.
I felt embarrassed of myself,
But should I be?
Bcuz I had no control over my body,
He did.
I often think, people like me
Will Actually get true equity?
Justice for what happened,
justice for what's going to happen
Justice for people like me,
Is death sentence enough?
Death is nothing infront of what
I've been through,
But nobody can feel it
Because they are not in my shoe
let me tell you this,
It requires a lot of courage for a rape survival
to survive.
An Assault On All That Is Sacred And Beautiful
Standing by the canyon rim
The couple embrace
“How beautiful, still”
Are their last words
*
Two old men
With tears in their eyes
Look out over the canyon
Kicking the dirt hard
*
A boy holds tight
His father's hand
As they watch
The flight of an eagle
*
A girl with
Arm around
Her mother's waist
Reads the posted sign
*
The Department of Interior is no more
We apologize on behalf
Of all that was once
Sacred and Beautiful in our World
*
I have:
NO safety
NO person
NO belief
NO way of knowing
NO way of feeling
NO strength
NO voice
NO acceptance
NO face
NO body
NO smile
NO whole heart
NO empty thoughts
NO full trust
NO idea why
NO idea how
NO forgiveness
NO hope for you
NO hope for me
NO healing
NO trust
NO control
NO maybe
NO might
NO possibly
NO somehow
NO just in case
NO guess
NO answer
You want me to say yes?
I say NO.
loudly.
As if you didn't hear it the first time.
-s.grace
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