You want to know why I write?
Well, it’s because I feel like no one understands,
or like I’m not being heard when I try to speak up
I just write because my pen and paper understand me!
It was a dark evening when I was returning from running errands
I was just a passerby or probably an innocent civilian
Soldiers scattered around, holding their guns tightly
I thought to myself, this recent war probably made some of these soldiers monsters to their own kind!
As I continued to walk, trying to mind my business,
one of them approached me,
I knew this was trouble
I said no word as he dragged me into a dark corner,
for this was a battle I couldn’t survive
He ripped my cloth off as he made his way through
I screamed for help
Tears rolling down my cheeks
He covered up my mouth with his heavy hand
I fought through but all was in vain
After he got what he wanted, he vanished!
I kept saying to myself, this was all a dream,
But the pain was nonstop
I dragged myself home, I was so weakened,
I thought of killing my self
For I had no words to describe what had happened to me
It’s been three and a half years now
To this day, I still feel his tight grip on my wrists,
the pressure of his body as I tried to resist
But still, I’M NOT BROKEN
It was like a church service
My body was the church and with all your sins,
You came in me. But still,
I’M NOT BROKEN!
If I may ask, did I fulfill your needs?
Sure, it doesn’t matter that you made me bleed!
Did it feel good to use me like a piece of dirt?
I’m still breathing and yes, I say, I’m not broken!
The truth I hold, took years to unfold
Now I speak for I am done being weak!