Her Story: he broke me
He was my friend.
He was supposed to be my friend.
He was supposed to look after me.
He broke me.
He was my friend.
He was supposed to be my friend.
He was supposed to look after me.
He broke me.
I woke up screaming from the sheer agony of it all The sweat dripping from my brow She isn’t here anymore She can’t reach me But she lies within my soul and creeps into my mind whenever she feels the
They broke our cameras and stole our films
They stole our bodies
And will
New souls cross its threshold every season
Every one of them beautifully armorless
This symbolic place is full of my deception
University, your education is priceless
a good friend
would have
asked questions
are you okay?
what happened?
I may have been intoxicated but I KNEW this was not what I wanted.
I asked him to stop, and unlike so many other stories, he actually did.
Because of this, I never considered it rape.
I still don't even know what to call it.
But I know it wasn't right.
I know it wasn't consensual and I know he took advantage of me.
My mother once told me she had had second thoughts
about getting us vaccinated, my brothers and I.
About sullying our pristine, trusting little bodies
with dark potential.
This is how I feel about something else
that happened to me then.
The unwanted touch like the needle.
An unfamiliar dis-ease shot under my smooth, new skin.
The room is dark and cool, it smells like hot metal and the air is dry.</br>
A lullaby of ominous whispers consumes my subconscious, if I try to eavesdrop they fall silent.</br>
Slivers of lavender light dance on sharp edges of images you don't want in your head.</br>
Images you couldn't, shouldn't, don't imagine.</br>
The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we'll be here.