My body was meant to be mine.
That one night,
That one drink,
That one boy
Who decided it was his to take.
It was my fault?
My dress?
But I did not ask for you to take
What was not yours.
No answer is still an answer.
No answer is a girl, passed out,
Who could not move to stop it.
Now I am just a girl, forever running,
Never escaping the endless abuse from men
Who mistake hunger for permission.
Your actions resemble those of an animal.
One that eats its prey, shredding it into pieces until nothing remains.
But the difference between you and an animal is that you carry on even after there is nothing left.
You persist as if you had never eaten,
As if you are still starving,
Despite all you have dissected,
Broken and shredded away.
What is more frightening than a ravenous animal?
A man who cannot control his lust, his thirst for women.
A man who one woman should be enough for,
But cannot be satisfied until he is completely full.
Just another body added to his list.
Where is the limit?
Is there one?
When will you ever be full enough?
Will you ever be?
The once whole house is now empty.
The house that was once filled with love has now lost it.
The house I once called mine, never truly was.
It was a place where I had to face my darkest days alone.
And somehow make it out the other end.
I am now in my new home,
Where I make friends with animals,
Where love is created by innocent souls whose purpose is to love you for who you are.
But I cannot say that I can call it mines.
It was the placed that I escaped to on nothing but adrenaline.
To face even more dark days, truly alone.
I still feel empty because I am alone here,
Going weeks without any physical human interaction.
I fear it because, unlike animals who cannot hurt you,
Humans can and will.
A woman embodies beauty.
A woman embodies emotion.
But these are the very qualities we are exploited for.
Our beauty, warped by men.
Men manipulate our emotions,
“Not all men,” you say?
But indeed, a man.
They claim to love a pure woman, yet they will diminish you,
Use you until you are no longer that pure woman, they once desired.
They make you feel it is your fault,
That you chose this.
But they are the ones who stole your innocence.
And now, you are left to mend the wounds they ripped open and left untreated.
The Undiluted Thought 