You.

You.

A Poem by Kristin
"

this isnt really a poem idk i just kinda wrote it idk ok

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The door is locked. There is an empty refrigerator beside mThe door is locked. There is an empty refrigerator beside me, "Dasani" printed across it. There's a stack of 3-32 can boxes of coke in the corner. The shades are brought all the way down, locked. The same fluorescent lights I've seen outside this room so many times before seem brighter, almost blinding. This room could play as a small bedroom but  I feel this sinking feeling that the walls are closing in on me. He wasn't this close just a few minutes ago. All he asked for was some help moving a few things in here. Words are pouring out of his mouth but I have no idea what he's saying to me. I slowly feel the wall approach my back. He looks angry. I can feel his eyes burning into my skin. I don't want to be here. I don't know why but I want to leave. I cant. It’s too late. It’s been too late since I agreed to help him. I tried to take a step but his hand is wrapped round my wrist before I can. "Calm down." The first words I've understood in the last 5 minutes. My skin burns as he puts his hand under my shirt. I feel cold. All the sudden it feels strangely like winter. "Stop it." I think I'm going to throw up. I feel so nauseous. His other hand reaches for my pants. I try backing up but the wall wont push back away with me.It won’t listen to my silent prayers for it to break open. He leaves bloody scratches down the side of my thigh with his nails  as he tries to pull my shorts down. He’s let his mrl. I can hear my phone ring. Once. Twice. Three times. I reach to answer it but its not in my pocket. Its across the room on the counter.  There's someone knocking at the door. He wipes my tears. I don't remember them being there. He pulls me closer to him, yells a simple "One second!" to the door. "Don't tell anyone about this." Silence filled air breathes onto my neck. "It'll be worse if you tell anyone.” I walk out with him. A quick smile and nod towards my friend who just saved my from a world of possible pains that could've happened without even knowing it herself. I feel like a statue. My face, stone cold. He has a girlfriend. I know that much. I've seen her strewn across him multiple times. So many other people look up to him. I can't hear myself think    I'm stuck between hating him and hating myself for not being able to do more to stop him. I got stuck. Every other thing I've ever been worried about leaves my head. I feel sick. I can't even look at myself anymore. What the hell is wrong with me? I should have known this would happen. He kept telling me he liked me and I ignored it. I should have known. I keep trying to convince myself that he wasn't in the wrong for this. I try to tell myself there is no way that even happened. He would never do that. So many people look up to him and he has a girlfriend and he's a senior and I'm a freshman this didn't happen but I have this bloody cut on my thigh to know this is real and I don't want it to be real.  He keeps asking me why I hate him. As if after all that I could simply be ‘ok’ with him. I hate him for doing this. I hate him for locking that door. I hate him for touching me. I hate him for acting like it never happened. I hate him for the excuses he made up when he texted me afterwards as if I had even asked. I I hate that if he could have gotten all the way he would have. I hate him for making me hate myself. I hate him.This scratch is a reminder for the next few weeks. It’s a reminder when I get a boyfriend and he asked me why I keep flinching when he comes near me. Its a reminder when I look at him. Its a reminder when I see his girlfriend and I can’t tell her. Its a reminder when I look in the mirror and when I take a shower. I don't want to remember. I don't want this to be real. It never happened. I just try to imagine as if it never happened because it didn't. I keep telling myself it didn'tIt didn't It’s not real. Nothing will ever be real.

© 2014 Kristin


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This is a very strong write.
I enjoyed it.
Have you ever read "rose madder" by stephen king? Its an amazing book and this sort of reminds me of the begining of it.
I strongly recommend it.
Bravo and keep writing (:

Posted 7 Years Ago



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Added on May 18, 2014
Last Updated on May 18, 2014
Tags: writing, poetry, sad, love, lost, stupid, bones, life, body, personality, pain, death

Author

Kristin
Kristin

Atlanta, GA



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