I don't want to talk about it.
I don't anyone to undermine
the way I was made to feel,
I don't want them to tell me to get over it,
Or act like it was no big deal.
I don't want your sympathy,
I don't want you to cry,
I don't want your questions,
or for you to continue to pry.
You cannot understand my experience
My words are empty, meaningless and drained.
You don't know how I felt
or of the injuries I sustained.
Why should I feel like it was my fault
for showing another some trust ?
Do not ask me why I didn't scream louder
as he continued to thrust.
Leave me alone .
You all want me to share myself out,
for you to consumed for your lust.
Keep your twisted morals on how the world works,
and what is fair and just.
I don't want your attention,
I don't want to know of your desires,
or the frustrations and excitement,
Your lust for me inspires.
Was there some sort of misunderstanding ?
You tell me how you misunderstand No?
You tell me how misunderstand you've forced it in
but I am still saying it and pushing you off though.
Its a dangerous process,
but we still proceed with a blindfold,
Ignore these experiences, deny justice,
And let their stories go untold.
Was she really asking for it ?
Because of the dress she choose to wear ?
Did this give him an entitlement to her body ?
or to tear her clothes or pull her hair?