The Last Time Parts 1-3 (Censored)

The Last Time Parts 1-3 (Censored)

A Poem by Angel Criner

Something I'm getting around to leaving behind in the past with the help of a lover...

For the third time he’s got her, he’s trying to get it in;
She’s saying no, but whatever… he just won’t listen.
“Stop, Get the f-ck off me! Don’t touch me… NO!”
She’s fighting, she’s glaring, but he isn't letting go.
People walking by, glimpse, looks away;
Pleading with her eyes, still no one stays…
From that moment she realized nobody cares,
Because when she needed someone, no one was there.

He’s groping her everywhere; her petite frame is crushed-
Between his body and a wall... the opposite of plush;
She’s in uniform; and inspection is in an hour,
Whining as he abuses her, draining all of her power…
There’s an opening, she strikes… she tries to run;
He grabs her by her hair, throws her around, he isn't done.
Feeling every jab in her back gritting against the wall,
And every time he draws back with his hand curled into a ball…

She now fears that anytime she strikes, he’ll strike back,
And it seems that manners are something that he unfortunately lacks.
So she stops hitting, she just pushes and blocks,
But he’s so d-mn big! Like a boulder, a rockHold in your tears; don’t let him see you cry,
Playing over through her mind like a lullaby.
She keeps on her face disgust and anger as he violates her everywhere;
Hoping for a hero, in the parking lot, past the cars…she just stares. 
It’s over, he walks her to class and she’s in a daze;
Feeling so exposed, angry, and ashamed...
She pounds the door once, as hard as she can with her fist;
Mugging, trying to see through her watery eyes, the mist.
She hesitates... then walks in like someone who won't admit defeat;
As she takes a seat her strength and courage quickly depletes.
For once her teacher's quiet and she asks no questions,
She looks once, then continues to teach the given lesson.
In a class full of ratchets, where no sympathy will be given,
She lowers her head and weeps, silently hoping no one listens.  
She can't look up, she's too full of shame,
She can't stop crying, she feels she's to blame.
So many thoughts, so many feelings, 
So much pain, the sound of her rapid breathing…
The lights are on, everyone's talking,
She gets up, to the door she's walking.
She points to the Restroom pass and the teacher says yes;
She's so surprised, she must have look stressed.
She slams the door and walks across the hall.
Where she prepares to meet the girl that they saw...that ugly fragile broken doll.
She can't look at herself just yet, she stands with her eyes tight.
Too afraid to see what she showed the world, she can't stare at this unknown sight.
Open your eyes… Just open your eyes, is singing in her head,
You have to do it, you have to look, the words are full of dread.
She counts the seconds while she's standing there…
Slowly, she opens her eyes, staring at the floor, too scared.
She glances at her shoes, one is half off, they're both scratched up and untied.
She says it's okay, it's not that bad, just look up, she tried…
After wiping her eyes, she convinced herself she couldn't look that bad;
She moved her eyes higher until she could see the lower half… she gasped…
Her belt was unhooked and her pants were fully unzipped,
"No…" If she had been walking she might've just tripped.
Her eyes move higher, and she has to hold in her tears.
Her shirt is unbuttoned, half un-tucked, and she sees in her reflection all of her fears.
Everything's wrong, nothing looks decent, she sheds a tear… she's enraged.
She scans her face, her hair, her clothes. Red eyes, bruises, her body's a cage.
She wants to scream, she's hurting inside and out,
The whole world can assume what they want without a doubt.
She runs over to the last stall, crying and hitting the wall.
She pulls out the razor and cuts away it all.
But she can't, it hurts, but everything doesn't go away.
It's still there, still beating her, it's not gone, it stays.
She's so desperate to feel anything besides his hands and the aches
She cuts up her entire stomach with impulsive hysterical swipes while she breaks…
She's just sitting on the floor huddled in the corner, bleeding, crying.
She feels so alone, so violated, so ugly… higher her walls are rising.
She covers up the evidence as much as possible.
Wipe away the tears, cover the blood... almost impossible.
She rushes to her last class with her eyes to the ground.
Making no eye contact, no gestures, no sound.
The girl knows without a doubt that she's going to fail
So she doesn't even try... she gets yelled at... Oh well.
She wouldn't dare attempt an explanation.
Just take whatever with no indignation.
Because what's on her mind isn't schoolwork and friends.
She can't stop thinking of his face... His hands.
After a week her feelings retreat back into hiding.
Because people want her to start confiding.
So she smiles, she laughs. But if you touch...
She may cringe, she may gasp... at least not much.

© 2014 Angel Criner

Author's Note

Angel Criner
Comments on grammar will be ignored since I'm not a writer that reviews their work when they're done with it. I write what comes to mind... smooth out a couple of edges and then I'm done. If you feel the need to anyways go ahead... all honest opinions are welcome.

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Added on February 3, 2014
Last Updated on February 4, 2014
Tags: teen, abuse, fear, pain, memories, hurt, afraid, sexual assault, cutting, self harm, high school, help, sadness, lonely, trust issues


Angel Criner
Angel Criner


Female ~ Blasian ~ Poet ~ Violist ~ Otaku ~ -IG: achara.gouhan -IG: nights_with_angel -IG: lioness_on_the_hunt -Tumblr: -(My Christmas/Winter Blog) S.. more..