irinagc19

The blame is put on you; they say it's all your fault. A victim of sexual assault, but they don't know what you've been through. A shirt too tight, a skirt too short, not good enough to court, but you look alright. Knowing people are around in crowded places makes you feel secure. Helping to mask your allure, you stare at the ground to avoid their smolder. Now no one sees your pretty face, but what excites them is the chase. So you jump when they touch your shoulder, "Excuse me, miss" they say with charm, as their hand slowly caresses your arm, sending you back into the abyss. The bruises and the scars you can use makeup to cover, but the shame will always hover and never be far. Each day you look back more convinced that it's your fault- that you fell victim to sexual assault, all because of the clothes you lacked.