Three Darker Poems on a dark & gloomy day

First there must be fear. “Not me, please not me.”

Then chase, no escape from his eyes

Confrontation follows no. I want to no.

But fear, the fear is choking all words away

The violence against the body

Punched heavy into the abdomen

Not enough air left in the lungs

Gasping and shock and denial

His hands knotting hair

Head pulled back, shoulders

Forced down to his excitement

Made powerful pushing hard

Against his denim jeans

Slapping starts as the back of his

Sweaty hands strikes both sides of the face

A cry whistles between loosened teeth

Again he hits and again as if he

Keeps time with the music of his screams

“Goddamn bitch! Fucking whore! Teasing slut!”

He violates privacy, he destroys hope

He is so cruel that tears are meaningless

Pleas and sobs become silent behind

The ruin of teeth

Heat is the discomfort of bumping the

Yellowing bruises that mark the skin

Like a map of where his hands have been

I feel loss but cannot know how much

I can only associate it with dying and heartbreak

The revulsion of self is like the rejection of God

Wounds that won’t heal remain fresh and open

Wanting death, hiding away in the shame

Tangle of sheets clutching in stark fear

That his hand is wrapping around my heart

Sorrow is the pain- sharp in my chest

Behind locked doors that afford no security

I try to imagine what rape is like

But I cannot see it through her eyes.

Lacey is the best (most positive, new, honest) source of healthy advice

Wikipedia + Rape= definition overkill but has helpful stuff

Talking about rape is always a touchy subject, apt to widespread misinterpretation. The hardest thing as a writer is being cuaght between rape fantasies and rape realities. I spend time thinking about how I would understand things as a woman as often as a man since I often write in both POVs. When I play video games I often choose a female character over a male becuase of the differences to me. I want to see how people treat you differently. The first time I did this was Tomb Raider- but the first real experiment into doing this was World of Warcraft (the deception was double edged- I learned from a man's POV how both women and men (boys and girls) treated someone they assumed to be a woman. I recognized that my experience would always be limited because there is always something unfathomable about being a woman versus a man). Years ago I wrote a serious satire about rape from a man's Point of view. It made a lot of women very umpset- the chief complaint was that it glorified rape. It was ironic as the poem was timely since over the last 2 decades I have watched rape awareness grow and get outstripped by the rape-exultation/ glorification on the internet primarily although we are seeing an increase as well in TV (primarily in shows on HBO/Showtime) and in books and comic books. Misconceptions and alterations occur daily on internet sites where one finds both good and bad, right and wrong representations of it mixed into anime, webcomics, blog fictions and fan-sites as well as porn in all its popularity out there on the net. 
What is worse is that Rape continues to occur among people who have little to no idea that they are participating/spectating while it is occurring since the lines of definitions have been blurred by all this input on the act of it.

Rage

Rage- in it there is no hope, no life.

I am lost, lost to all things in balance.

Like standing alone against the wind wailing

My voice is screaming out of control.

Only hate remains, survival versus fear.

Lost.

Lost to love beyond the despair that I feel.

Rage like a cry in the night

Rage, I see red then black.

Rage is the beast in the darkness.

I stand alone in the crowds

my blood boils, my tears are crimson

my anger causes pain.

My souls is shattered, nothing remains

Rage, rage against the anger

It’s in my head, in my heart.

Lost,

lost to love and no one touches me.

Kill,

kill the pain, the past, the loneliness.....

if you look at me and the beast stares back

then you may wish you were alone.

Definitions of rage

When I was a younger man/boy I experienced Rage. A state of anger unlike anything I had ever known and unlike anything I now know. It was impossible to control and the outcome was seldom good and almost always bad. I overcame it, poetically I laid that beast to rest- although I suspect it still lives somewhere deep down inside of me. Today I am not a violent person but I recognize that I could have been.

The darkness grows in the mind

something wakes then smiles in kind.

What can move me to write, to see,

this, the sacred side of insanity.

Darkness deepens moving the rage,

I scream, I cry, I am coming of age.

Rage is maddening; the beast calls my name,

Blood in my eyes burn, burning like a flame

"This is madness!" I cry in my pain

fighting this invasion in my brain

Rage now whispers words of the insane

Love has left, anguish only remains

Blood boils, scorching my veins

until this passion peaks then falls like rain

Torrents crashing to a sudden death

leaving me sobbing and gasping for breath.

Emptiness comes in a semblance of sleep

The fury is spent, silence of sheep

Now in my memory the rage burns

guilt like a glutton to twist and turn

The fear of its dreaded return.

Rage now retreats like that of a bad dream

A moment of madness, mist and steam.

My heart bleeds love, and then the moment is lost

Insanity, yes, this is the inevitable cost.

In the darkness the rage returns to the deep

and once again I wake to tremble, to weep

For the darkness takes the man out of me

I must forever watch or it will get free

leaving the beast howling in the night

to hunger, to run, and to fight.

Now consider, this and what I have said

and think on love, lost in the red.