Walking Dead

I moved closer to hold your hand.
As you struggled, by your side I wanted to stand.
"It’s ok to cry" I whispered in your ear.
Within moments I felt your tears.
I held your 200 bound,
6' foot 2 frame as though you were a child.
Not realizing that within you there was something savage and wild.
You held me so tight I could not breathe.
I tried to move out of your embrace.
But your body held me in place.
You grabbed, turned my face so aggressively,
Crushing your lips so violently on top of mine.
Within seconds you were reaching for my drawers.
I pulled your hands away.
For a minute is seemed as though you obeyed.
But slowly your hands found my breasts.
At this point you had me half undressed.
Your body is so big and crushing mine.
"Let’s stop" I softly suggested.
You calmly ignored my request.
"LET'S STOP" I loudly suggested.
Once again calmly you ignored my protest.
You held me down as you tore away at my clothes.
I fought hard but was no match for your blows.
I feel your touch upon my naked skin.
Trying to push you away but you enter in.
My clenched fist lies lifelessly beside my body.
It was as though my mind and soul were disembodied.
After a couple life altering moments you gone.
While I lay there on the couch completely withdrawn.
I showered and washed,
And still I could not clean you away from me.
The feeling of violation,
of invasion,
of intrusion into my soul.
That night I was hunted by flash backs of a dry abrasive sex.
Images of a cruel and unusual ex.
Coercion, endless struggle, a stinging pain, an unmarked path.
Worries, a baby, Aid, STD, the aftermath.
I saw two eyes of flames in my sleepy dreams.
My voice was silent for I could not scream.
What is a scream without breath?
What is half a heart labors where a full heart would fail?
This is a wounded heart grown old so young.
The damage you have done.
The horror you have caused.
I cannot even compare.
Though I loved you, you hurt me,
And now hunt me in nightmares.
Who am I?
I am a woman,
A wife,
A mother,
A daughter,
A sister,
A friend,
I am the faceless girl from yesterday.
I am the girl from school,
From work,
From the club the other night.
I am the girl that you smile at when you pass her by.
I am the dead girl walking.

"Twisted Elegance"

This one is for the billion faceless, voiceless women out there. I am sorry for your pain, sorrow and constant struggles. No man has the right to violate your mind, body or spirit. Please keep your head up. From someone who's been in a similar circumstance and survived, the up hill struggle gets easier. There is a light at the end of this dark tunnel.



Copyright © 2009 by Hayat Magan. All Rights Reserved