"It Was An Accident"
This was written after a personal experience I had eight years ago. No flames please.
He tells me that he’s sorry.
I don’t answer.
What he’s done is unforgiveable.
Tears stream down my face and fall onto my wrists,
The same wrists that had once been marred by dark purple bruises
But now are covered in sickly gray handprints.
“It was an accident.” he says.
I cover my ears.
I don’t want to listen to his appologies, or hear his excuses.
Because he’s not sorry.
It wasn’t an accident.
We both know it.
He just doesn’t want to admit it.
He doesn’t want to admit that he did something so unspeakable
With a girl barely ten winters old.
My father and mother are out on the porch.
I can hear them arguing.
The sounds of their voices are far away, distorted as if underwater.
And that’s what it feels like.
It feels like I’m drowning.
Not in water, but in the ocean of lies that been created tonight.
“It was an accident.” he says again.
But I know better.
You can’t call rape an accident.
(2013)
This was written eight years after the most traumatic event in my life. No flames please. I put m heart and soul into revelaing the truth and I don't want it to be criticized.
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