Him

If I had sex, it made me a slut,

If I told the story of my rape, I was an attention seeker,

to my mother I was a liar.

In this unjust justice system we call the law, he would walk free.

Everytime I lay down to close my eyes, I see HIM.

He who did not stop everytime I said no, my cries that went unheard as blood dripped down between my legs.

HIM, who had no remorse.

To his friends, it was just another score, to mine it was a cry for help.

Me, who had to relive the aching pain in my head, over and over while he walked past me every day. 

Me who could only cry myself to sleep at night in fear of my own mother’s judgment,

Me who could not tell anyone while him, he who walked free with no punishment. 
Me who had no idea, what I was in for, my mental stability crashing down upon me every day.

Me who had to suffer in silence, but him, he who added another victim to his list…
HIM, Who hurt me every day inside of my head…