I was dead, on the day I was raped, I was, coming home from work, it was, late, I trekked down that usual path toward home, then, someone jumped out, muffled me up, pushed me down, then, raped me!
not my picture…
I became dead, couldn’t feel anything anymore, ‘cuz that, was the only way, I can stop myself, from being assaulted over, and over again in my mind, and yet, those few short seconds to minutes that unknown stranger had raped me had, stayed with me, all these years.
Dead, on the day I was raped, and, there’s, no way, I will, EVER feel again, because if I’d allowed myself to feel, then, all those previous moments of hurt, of pain, of discomfort, and of distress all come back, and that, is the only way, I can be, for the sake, of my own survival.
not my phootgraph…
Dead, on the day I was raped, there’s, no turning back the hands of time, to change anything (b/c let’s face it, it would be, unrealistic!!!) that’s happened to me since then, and so yeah, I’ll just, keep on, walking among you, covering myself up, dressing myself up, as one of the living, but I’d become, totally, DEAD inside!!!
Life, the Obstacle Course 