No Body Home

  
Somehow you found me.

My innocence still so pure.

I was just a young girl, surviving the turmoil that burned deep inside.

My outward beauty so deceiving; still so immature.

No father close to protect, and a mother always gone.

You curiously showed up at my door.

Your attention to me was undoubtedly intriguing.

I never wanted you to take things that far.

The trusting little girl in me believed all your lies and fell for your charm.

You weaseled into my family and made your presence known.

You’d arrive, disguised as a friend; with cruel intentions brewing in your sick mind.

I feared the days you showed up alone when no body was home; but your words made me believe that I was safe in your arms.

My early pubescent sighs of insecurity; you reassured me “its just baby fat”, and said I was “so pretty”.

No breasts to fill your hand, no curves for you lust; I was just a girl.

You placed my hand on you and got off on teaching me what to do; I was just a girl.

You called me your girlfriend, even though you were 19; I was just a girl.

No flowers, no chocolate, no sweet nothings. No body home.

No teddy bears, no jewelry, no favorite song. No body home.

No movies, no love notes, no dates to the dance. No body home.

No butterflies, no holding hands, no first kiss. No body home.

Instead you placed me on the cold hard floor in a dirty back room.

You drove deep into the woods so no one would know.

I thought I was your girlfriend.

No, I was your silent little trophy.

A notch on your belt, a girl to brag about.

Did they know, did they know, that I was just a girl?

I had dreamed of a love story, but nothing like this.

I had imagined my prince charming, but it was not you.

He was mine for a short while until you butt in.

He had blue eyes, soft touch; nothing like you.

Why did you chose me? I did not deserve to be defiled.

You left me powerless, silent, and more vulnerable than before!

I was your pretty little puppet used for your sick desires!

Your infatuation with me still haunts me!

I tried to block it out, I tried to carry on the best I knew how!

All my defenses have failed me by now!

I am left with the same empty, cold, nakedness.

I still feel, smell, hear, taste every encounter.

My gut churns and my skin goes pale with each invading memory that flashes into my mind.

The young voice inside has broken her silence.

The little girl you violated is now a woman; full of fiery vengeance.

You have scorned me deep into my core.

Why, Why , Why did you choose me?

Didn’t you know that my life was already hard?

This has sabotaged every relationship that I’ve ever had.

Never again did I trust.

Never again was I in control.

I allowed the same abuse to occur.

I believed that I had no value, no worth, no voice.

I blamed myself, oh, the guilt, the shame, disgust that ensued.

I can’t shake this from my memory.

Hate and anger run through my veins like a violent raging river.

The scars run deep and they now define me.

Its so sad to know that my entire life was changed at the hands of someone who cared only about his selfish desire.

You did not think through your intentions and what would transpire.

This blooming bud was picked far too early.

Trampled upon and left alone to pick up her petals that had not even bloomed.

She planted herself back in the ground; knowing that I would never grow the same.

I am strong.

I will be heard.

I am not afraid.

I am healing.

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2 thoughts on “No Body Home

  1. manamaray says:

    you are one brave lady, one tough chick
    You have given yourself a voice, I can totally empathize with the things that you say for I have been there too. I only wish that I had the courage to write about it like you do
    Thank you for sharing
    Its powerful stuff

    Liked by 1 person

    1. .:unbreakable:. says:

      Thank you, I noticed that I was starting to overshare information on facebook and decided to go to a blog where I do not have to have my name plastered all over. Eventually I will start writing about the healing process. This stuff can be uncomfortable for some to read, I do realize that. It is comforting to do this with strangers and maybe to reach out to others who have been in similar traumas.

      Like

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