A Good Girl

*Trigger Warning. Images of rape and sexual assault*

Yours. The Words set fire to the black tar of my soul
Torturing me with the burning desires I’ve been craving
Since that man touched my little girl parts and asked me not to tell
a soul. I hated how delicious it felt; I love how sweet you are,
Like a lollipop given to a starving child who’s had nothing
but dirt kicked in her face since the age of 5, when mom
beat her ass for asking her step father not to take her bike away.
You lull me into a sense of safety and comfort,
Silently promising me a future of children and a house that
welcomes strangers who might, for once, become friends
that won’t strip me of everything I have before leaving me
to fend the loneliness and depression off with medications and alcohol,
or video games that do nothing to quiet the aching anxiety
breaking through my overstretched skin and forcing me into the corner
of every situation that could potentially lead to something dangerous,
Where I fight back like a dog who’s just been kicked in the ribs
by the person he thought loved him the most. He’ll bite once,
Then run back with his tail between his legs, needing the love to come,
needing to be pet with the coo’s of “Good boy” and “Settle down.”
Tell me I’m a good girl, and I’ll open my soul to you and only you,
Until the next man comes along and punches me in the kidneys,
And then I’ll beg him for the same, on my knees, with my lips
around his cock until I’ve proven to him that I am perfect and that
He can love me for something because dear god, I’ve nothing else left.
He’ll taste of semen and cigarette smoke while his hands hold my head
and push me down whispering, “Momma promised you’d be a good girl”
and I want to be that good girl, I need that praise, and here I’ll earn it
Like I earned those coins rescuing dogs and watering roses
So that my siblings could have pudding for dessert and we’d laugh,
like those happy family’s on TV where everything was perfect.

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