Poetry. i am not just this body.

TW for Sexual Assault

I have found it difficult to write about being sexually assaulted. I would write a sentence and then I would delete the sentence. What can possibly be said? Especially about something that I could not find words for. I could not even think about it without wanting to throw up. The dawning horror. When it happened, I didn’t realise until years after that that is what had happened. I naturally assumed it was my fault and the way things are. And it was like the innocence that I had – completely cracked because I have always trusted people, trusted some people more than I should have and when I realised – all the experiences I had had were tainted because they were wrong. These fragments of poems were the first words that I scribbled down onto a discarded envelope. I thought I would share.

it is all untapped in you 

granted you autonomy 
without realising
i could - was allowed to take control

taking control is terrifying 

taking responsibility
the pen to write my own story 

especially when you have not had 
the ownership to make your own choices before

you don’t have to treat yourself
like a rubbish bin
you are not for somebody else’s empties
fill yourself with goodness

breaking habits is hard to do
coming back in from the cold

i am not just this body 

i don’t have to finish what they started
maybe there’s something else for me?

it is clear predators are not the dark spaces underneath your bed
they give you love
you haven’t had 

lost
now 
i need to start
colouring myself in.

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