Thursday, 25 October 2012

"Didn't Really Want"

I didn’t really want to take

the "morning-after" pill.

They made me – parents, doctor.

It haunts me, still.

Being raped is enough,

when you are seventeen

and actually a virgin.

You are never clean

enough – not deep inside –

not after that.

To take control, you starve yourself,

but you still feel too fat –

and even thin feels wrong.

You turn to drink instead.

You take crap from useless blokes,

who insist on messing with your head.

You do boring office work,

pretend that you can cope –

which, of course, you don’t.

You’re dangerously low on hope.

You wonder why I wash

my hands until they bleed?

Why I "choose" the childless life?

Are my words uncomfortable for you to read?

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