I wrote this today, but this was an experience from when I was 13 years old. Do keep in mind that I am no longer a child and have worked through all of the problems that come with being raped at a young age. I share this only because the shame is no longer a part of my life. I know now that it was a crime, and not a sexual experience. It is my hope that perhaps someone else might benefit from knowing that they are not alone.
Trees, ancient and gnarled
bend boughs low to the ground,
guarding secrets of the woods.
Saplings fight for light,
stretching to reach heights
to break free of the gloom
that covered the forest floor.
The wind blew through,
shaking the treetops,
forever gossipping, whispering;
filling the woods with curiosity.
A creek rushes away, it’s currents
hurriedly trying to reach an ocean.
She wades into the water
only wishing to forget,
and be taken with it to the sea.
This place, always her sanctuary,
now was her prison, her innocence
lost forever under the scrutiny of trees.
Her screams went unheard,
her blood ran freely.
She was left only with regret and
the rustling of the leaves above
as if nothing had happened.
She waded into the deeper water,
trying to cleanse the sin away,
desperately fighting the shame
that comes with being young and
violated beyond repair.
Tears purged the hurt but never
would close the wounds
of a crime she would revisit
again and again in dreams.
She heard the whispering wind,
felt the breath of breeze on her skin
as she attempted to wash it all away.
She stood amongst the gnarled trees
looking toward the place the stream
rushed to, wanting only to be
washed away forever to the open sea