Tragedy


because I am the silent nights
filled with rising actions and razor blades
invading the purity of the untouched
counting on the healing power of nightmares and an emptiness
in my heart
this tragic climax can only be marked by the marks permanently
carved into my thigh
and the vital fluid that has escaped the makeshift fortress
I've become accustomed to fashioning has stained my sheets
the color of mortality
signifying the blood that the men made me shed
for their pleasure
I am not an epic hero
but my epic flaw is written all over my inability
to forget their slimy palms holding me into submission
and I am the poster child for
make-sure-your-victim-doesn't-remember-being-a-victim
but being unsatisfactory does not give you the right
to write yourself into my sanctuary
leaving behind the stench of misery
and the permanence of sleepless nights

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