Behind The Mask
My life after rape.
Two years ago, I was raped. At a party. This is my story.
She has tried to erase her past
But her story was written in pen,
And the attempt to forget did not last.
Every detail has made a permanent mark on the page,
Or has left scars on her body,
And a mind filled with rage.
Although the bruises have healed,
The memories have yet to fade.
Hot water running down two cold bodies
One forcing the other onto the ground
A tear running down her face
Screams that seem silent
A spine digging into the crevasses of each individually placed tile,
scraping against the sharp edges
So blurry at the time,
But so vivid in her mind.
As hard as she tried to erase whats been written of her story,
The truth is
She’s been laughed at
Called a slut
Told “you were asking for it”
That “you’re making it up”
That it was all lies
But she will not let these words she’s heard overwrite what has happened
And she will not be silent,
Won’t hide behind closed doors
She will be loud, she will be heard.
She’s felt as if every ounce of power she once had had been sucked away
She is someone who has suffered
Who has been hurt
But she is healing.
She can try to hide this part of her,
Pretend it never happened,
Try to erase every memory past that one night where she was still a young fifteen year old girl.
The girl who didn’t care what people thought of her
Or what people said about her
Because there was nothing to talk about.
Just an innocent fifteen year old girl
She tries so hard
To be that innocent fifteen year old girl again,
To not care what people say or think,
but things have changed,
because this time,
She’s given them something to talk about.
No matter how strong she makes herself seem
it’s just a facade,
And behind that mask
is the vulnerable little girl
who stumbled out of the extravagant townhouse onto Madison avenue
at four in the morning
Behind the mask is the confused sixteen year old
Who finally realized what had happened to her
Who cried for days because she felt
Like no one understood
because no one did.
Behind the mask is who she is now.
The seventeen year old girl who believes what they say
Who thinks she’s an “insecure little slut” because he said so
Who thinks she’s “not that pretty” because those girls said so.
Behind the mask is the girl who does care what they think
and at night
when the mask comes off
the tears fall in streams down her cheeks
and the blood drips down her wrists
and the alcohol clouds her brain
and the drugs numb her pain.
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