assault.

the most pitiful feeling that came with my assault;

was the false notion that it was my all my fault;

i’ve pondered about what i could have done differently;

even though that i’m aware rationally;

that the trauma was unavoidable entirely;

i still see the image of his perverted smile;

and for an extensive while;

i was in considerable denial;

denial as heavy as a ton of bricks;

denial as powerful as several kicks;

right in the gut, mind, and heart;

and the eventual realization utterly ripped me apart;

the anguish that went along with this event;

stuck in my memory like sturdy cement;

when i thoroughly realized that i did not consent;

i drowned in sorrow and tormenting lament;

and my positivity went into a rapid descent;

i was coerced into having intercourse;

invoking my feelings of self-remorse;

i’ve blamed myself for my his violation;

and his gaslighting and manipulation;

and his palpable desire for predation;

he pulled downs his pants while i was blatantly apathetic;

the perpetrator was miles away from empathetic;

and i still hear his ceaseless beseeching;

and i feel myself strenuously reaching;

for my courage, strength, and liberation;

and the conspicuous sensation;

of freedom from my resentment and vexation;

i’ve dealt with this trauma for two years;

along with it came an avalanche of tears;

the sound of my distress ringing in my ears;

and a broad spectrum of worries and fears;

i hope that my agony begins to dissipate;

i hope that i can let go of this heavy, emotional weight;

i hope that the effects begin to abate;

i hope that one day, i’m no longer inclined to fixate;

on the adverse perspective of my potential fate;

and i genuinely cannot wait;

for the day that the damage that this event has caused;

and the cycle of destruction that’s never been paused;

can decisively abrogate;

and i can lessen the portion on my plate;

and i can finally increase my ability to think straight;

and i have realized that it is never too late;

to utilize my experiences to advocate;

for those who feel as if they don’t have a voice;

for those felt like they didn’t have a choice;

and they can revel in total rejoice;

the day that they feel well enough;

to be released from the handcuff;

that ties them to each sensation of that moment;

each feeling of hostility, shame, and torment;

survivors of this type of abuse must stick together;

in an attempt to mitigate that stormy weather;

and to minimize the impact of the recollection;

and finally begin moving towards the direction;

of a mindset of increased affection.