Someone else who could be taking words from my journal …

Owning It

In so many ways, I’ve become my perpetrators. I’ve adopted their rot and allowed it to sit over me, suffocating me.

I imagined my current self comforting me after the rape.

Young me sobbed in my arms..

He cried because his hunger brought him to this.

because this hurt.

because he was alone.

I want to cry because I’ve been here before, and I’ve hated him.

Betrayed him, beat him.

And now I just want to hold him.

I am ready to evolve.

ready to give that boy what he needs.

ready to take what I need.

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4 thoughts on “Ready

  1. Such a heart felt pain. I wonder if it is each survivors experience. I work to reconcile with that boy now. So often he is who I write to and at times he has written to me. Those are poems I struggle to read


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