My First Time

A lot of people look forward to their first time.
Well so did I.
Until such dreams were snatched from me in my prime.
His hands slowly creeping up my thigh.
Such innocence forcibly ripped away,
Four hands pinned me down.
They said it was the way I let my hips sway.
A white gown; clawed, tainted and thrust in the muddy brown.

My first time, the less painful memory was the puddle I had cried.
Raw, sore, hate seeping through every pore.
I can’t even wear white if I ever become a bride.
More, more, four, gore. Back pressed firmly on the floor.
One at a time, they sequentially stripped me of my dignity.
Vocabulary diminished to these recurring words: Stop, Please, Stop.
Their friction threatening to snap the bands that keep my sanity.
But my pleas seemed to inspire them to swap

.

Memories buried tend to evolve into monsters.
This boogeyman comes out to play each night I close my eyes.
These scars never heal, they’re more like swollen blisters.
Please take this pain away, Anyone? Heaven hear my sincere cries.
The clandestine truth, bound and padlocked.
This monster needs no parole.
My very bedrock remains rocked.
I cry theft, my soul they stole.

My story is told and gradually I watched it unfold.
To my Creator, and in His loving embrace I securely stand.
In Him, I rise from my defeated state as a sheep, to a lion- bold.
It might be difficult for you to understand,
Why it was to him I ran.
When initially I blamed Him for after all He was God.
Well, its because He has the master plan.
And in His love, I remain awed.

Background: I spent a lot of this session studying about rape and I just had to conceive something regarding that. I know how I feel about such an atrocity and I pray for anyone out there who has experienced this heinous crime and I hope you find comfort in God because His love can erase all traces left behind and He can heal all scars.

©   O.M