He was not wearing a top hat
or a long black cape, draped alluringly
He did not speak with a silver tongue,
charming me with his language skills.
He simply offered me wild thrills
that I, a scapegoat, could not refuse
After that, I could not stop popping pills,
killing time, committing crimes!
He gloated, swearing it was my fault.
Then, he raped me, ravaged me savagely,
scaring me to no end, tearing me apart,
wreaking havoc, alarm in my life.
I cannot pretend no harm was done.
He attacked, abused me and thought it was fun.
Shame hung over my head, blame as well.
I wished that I were dead, dead and in hell.
Surely, the devil is his name.
Rape is just one of his games.
Instead of strife, now I need a life
of calm, of common good, meek and mild.
From the start, I should have said halt
when, he offered me wild thrills.
Still, when he came to me, I was weak.
Now, I’m strong of will, pure of heart.
-Ayami Greenwood
