WARNING: This is a heavy piece of writing that deals with the topic of sexual assault through relaying a survivors experience of date rape. If you are offended or sensitive to this subject matter, then please refrain from reading this particular piece.
To everyone else: I wanted this piece of writing to channel the various feelings, thoughts, and overall experience of what it's like to go through such a horrific experience. It's choppy, it's scattered, and it's devoid of warmth. It's as though you're watching these events occur, but you aren't really experiencing them. You're disconnected; dissociated. To the survivors of sexual assault, my heart goes out to you and I know your many pains. For me, writing about my experiences has provided more healing than any shrink or pills ever could.
I'm always here to talk if anyone ever needs a listening ear, or sounding board.
You're not alone.
-G.B
19 and naïve
Lonely
Desperate
She rides the 5E down the line
It's 11 PM
Past her bedtime
Work in the morning, she'll sleep in
One shot,
One night,
One boy who never paid her mind
Cold, it's the Dead of winter. She takes off a glove and fixes her hair
He's finally noticed her
She's coming at his midnight beckon
Houses with closed blinds fly past the window
Ever closer to her destination
her heart beats in rhythm to the bumping of tires over potholes
A man boards the bus,
waves a glove in her face
Crazy wide eyes and alcohol on his breath,
insanity pours out of a poisoned mouth
She sidles past and steps outside,
Cold air punches her lungs and leaves her gasping
She's walking
Walking
Walking
Towards the house in the middle of the street
The house he's waiting for her in
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting for his chance
Stopping at the porch, he welcomes her with open arms,
Tall and strong, enveloping her in a disconcerting embrace
They enter,
A staircase leads up
to a room
The room
The room with posters
And a laptop
And an inflatable mattress
'We're going to watch a movie'
It's not a question
We are
I am
I sit, but he wants to lay
His voice slithers wet and heavy in my ear
'You want it, but I'm not giving it to you'
My brain starts to ache
Confusion
Throat becomes sandpaper
I've forgotten how to breathe
I don't want it
Hands now roaming my body without permission
Shallow compliments fall on me and explode in a queasy stomach
I'm going numb
His mouth on mine
This isn't how I imagined it
Fighting back against bile rising in my throat
When did I become naked
He tells me I want it
I still don't
What happened to the movie
I just wanted a movie
He's inside me
Everything hurts
His face is ugly
And I think I hate him
He tells me to shut up
I can't
A hand strikes me
Shocking
Stinging
'I told you to be quiet'
Strong hands now hug my throat
A violent embrace
I want to cough
I can't
Squeezing
Gripping
Spots dance before my eyes
Tears threaten to fall
Please don't betray me
Trying to maintain
I can't
He grabs my face
'Are you crying?'
There's amusement in his voice
It's a game to him
He soothes me
Wipes my tears
Before resuming
Mouth to my ear again
Hissing
Growling
'I love raping you
I love raping you
God it's good
Dirty whore
I know you love it'
I'm there for years
I think I flew away for a few of them
Up
Up
Out of the room with the inflatable mattress
Out of my body
The body that rejected me
Made this happen
Nightmare
It's finally over
A lifetime has passed
I never knew a body could feel like this from the inside
I am dirty
Defiled
Hurting
Alone
Angry and
Betrayed
Now downstairs, he pulls me on his lap
Another man is there and they casually chat
They're laughing
I'm sick
And I think he is too
Going home now
I'm back
I'm alive
(I think)
It's so cold
I work tomorrow
I'm going to sleep in
..............
Part I of II
This is the story of Larry Joe Prince
And the way Arizona stole his innocence.
It is written with hope that there may come a day
When a wise judge will grant him his moment to say
All the things so conveniently left out of court,
Made American “justice” look more like a sport,
With a high-priced attorney that didn’t think clear,
And the false testimony of one with much fear,
And the state prosecute thought “I’ll surely reach fame”,
He said, “Hell, I don’t care who the state wants to blame,
It’s a paycheck to me; I don’t care about truths,
It’s my ego I feed, I’m a low lying sleuth!!”
So they all drew their “guns” on that guy Mr. Prince,
Absolutely no shred of secure evidence,
They proceeded to send him to death row to sit,
For the murder of one that he did not commit,
And the biggest and worst sin of all that was done,
Was the way that the people held on to their “guns”,
They embraced all the lies to evade what was clear,
As revenge prevailed justice with each little tear,
And for those in the grave who just watch from above,
With no longer a voice to teach them that real love,
Is not proven by putting the blame on a man,
Just because he is there….cause the courts and you can,
See the proof of one’s love speaks out so very clear,
Even after the grave when one’s body’s not here,
You will hear their soul cry, and you’ll then know for sure,
If they’re resting in peace or they’re haunted some more.
There are families that hide from life’s reality,
The dead man in this case begs you hear his soul’s plea,
Make amends for the errors you’ve made in the past,
And put down all those stones, and those already cast,
If this dead man could speak he’d have something to say,
Of the circus that ran through the courtroom that day,
And if not for the dead man then do it for you,
Cause we all have to answer to God what is true,
Larry Prince knows he’s clear and he wins either way,
Cause he’s INNOCENT judge, the state’s in disarray.
So please read all with care on this day we implore,
Please don’t look at this life as a game where you score,
It’s integrity that is of stake in this court,
And it’s not mine or yours it’s this country’s that’s short
Of a quality no longer active today,
If it dies, it’s the lives of our loved one’s…they’ll pay.
Take your time, read it all, and be true to your heart,
And we’ll all pray it’s not too late for a new start.
Part II of II
They all loved cocaine but they hid it from Dad,
He just couldn’t believe that his kids could be “bad”,
So his eyes he did close, and they stayed tightly shut,
While his best offspring died with that stuff in his gut,
And they said, “It was murder”, and placed the blame there,
Yes, it’s true ‘bout that bullet and blood in his hair,
And the roots of that crime have been hidden so well,
By the real guilty ones with the lies they did tell,
For those self-righteous ones that just stared and stood by,
And condoned this deceit without batting an eye,
For the cowards that watched as the killers went free,
Be aware this could happen to you or to me,
And your sons or your daughters could one day be led
To a place where they wish they would rather be dead,
So now don’t be afraid to let truths in your ears
When your children are hurting with eyes full of tears,
Don’t you cower or shudder, don’t whine and don’t wince,
And remember the story of Larry Joe Prince.
Written in parts, from 2000-2002
Original Copyright 2002
Registration Number / Date:
TXu001112792 / 2002-12-02
..................
07/21/13 ©
*
Crashing to the ground, side by side,
Sharing pain and distant apathy,
Two soldiers in a wicked war,
Battling against the world’s expectations,
Each in their own space, but it is too big to fill on their own.
Tongues lap on dirty pavements,
Cleaning the streets of all lies and truth.
Buried insomniac is restless beneath the concrete,
Noise cuts through him, as sight has no end.
They say it’s not right to be that way,
They are the masses of right, spitting at the handful of wrongs.
They judge and load bullets as they hand over the gun,
They shoot you before an epiphany has left your tongue.
All are wicked to the victim of war,
Collective drones piled up to make a wall,
Segregation is on the tongue of them all,
The only belief that matters is your own.