Silent Tears ( A Rape Victim’s Story)

It took one event to change her perception on life.

It took one bad experience to break her down,

over power her thoughts, emotions and affect her livelihood.

It took one night to give her a new perspective of the world.

Moments of pain and despair recalled as her defenses glared.

Hope seemed so frail through the dark hours as blood boiled

down in every vein, like a flicker in every flame.

Tears streaming from her face. She lay there blank faced and obeyed.

Putting herself down amidst threats, obeying every rule as evil

wrapped in the face of a man devoured and took every piece of her.

With cold hands, she cringed at first touch, a quick grip that suddenly

made her realize that her life was over and she’d never be the same again.

Mixed feelings of anger, shame piercing through the lines

of her skin as he mocked and pleasured himself.

Adamant to her pleads and screams, torturing her all the while.

Looking at the ceiling hoping something would stop.

A shady ounce of satisfaction – truth through the flickering lights

in the hallway as he took off at a quick pace,

leaving her shattered, weak, defenseless and afraid.

The lines of deceit and hate with each word he spoke

resonating like that irritating gong. Pride must have been

a great thing at one point, but shame she became.

Tears in the shower room as she tried to rub and clean

off the marks he had left on her skin. Rubbing on her skin

with so much pain and anger, wishing that the clean water from

the shower would cleanse her broken spirit and take away her pain.

For days she believed that it was her fault. Played divine

and blamed herself. Questioned fate and reality;

judged, ridiculed and put herself down.

Questions she’d ask but without answers.

Prayer became a solace for a while but somehow she didn’t

understand why God would let something so painful happen to her.

The world glared on with disgrace, daunting looks as she kept a stone face-

playing hard, keeping strong unaware that strength is overrated. She was crushing inside.

Therapy became soothing for a while, a home most sufficient.

Love was comforting and supportive through the pain, a consolation much needed.

Friends and family tried to be supportive but never understood.

A pain so unbearable, a burden so deep inside.

But memories of pain still as fresh as a bullet wound.

Flash backs told through the flickering lights

Feelings of fear and sadness as she tossed and turned in her bed,

shivers as she held on tight to her covers . Tears drenched in her pillow.

Moment’s reckoning for daylight and peace.

Prayer that all the pain would fade some day.

Hope for a brighter day as she rises to take ownership of her pain,

recognize her plight, stop blaming herself and get better.

©FloetryC 2015

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Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love poetry...art, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

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