You're a victim
a poor, helpless
victim
You're a survivor,
you made it through

Feel grateful
it could've been worse
you could've been killed
well
I was

I was shot

Right through the naive wall
that was supposed to protect me

I was shot

By a man who knew my vulnerability

I tried to dodge the bullets
With every "no",
I shielded my face from the bullets coming at me
With every "stop",
I ducked my head
And with every moment of paralyzed silence
I failed to defend myself

I was shot

when you're a victim
it feels like
everyone is against you.
     the questions
        the assumptions
           the chatter
             the looks
                the hate

                                                -is it even worth it?

I wish someone told me,

Love is not putting your  pleasure before my  protection
Love is not believing my body is your toy
Love is not being forced into anything I don't want to do

Because I lifted my shirt in an attempt to heal your broken mind
I silenced myself, my voice, my protests for your apology

Yet You held the gun to your  head
Made me believe I was the one
who made you feel as though you were better off dead

I'm still scared to look at my phone at night
Because of the chance the ringing is another suicide call

“Why did you break up with me,
You said you loved me,
If you hang up ill **** myself”

You were a disease
plagued by your own mind and  fixation
Tell my why did I have to be your victim!?

We are always the victim of our own story
We fashion wings of innocence for ourselves
accessorized by a halo of compassion and charity
Then we paint a mask on others
using colors such as greed and hatefulness
to show how truly evil they were
never wanting to admit our own fault
for fear of realizing our lingering evil inside