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.
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.
