Slut

Slut
That's my name
I'm a dirty little whore.
Easy.
Hoe.

No one knows what I've been through.
The thoughts that chill my heart like ice,
the night that played again and again in my head.
On repeat.
repeat.
repeat.

They say it was
all my fault.
They say I was
asking for it.
They say I
shouldn't have worn the skank clothes.

I was in jeans and a ratty old tee.
With a ragged old heart and a sad little mind,
kissing a boy at a party I'd never met,
hoping the kisses would numb the pain
in my heart.
I didn't mean for it to happen.

I am a dirty little slut
for calling the cops
when he took me
by my neck
shoved me
on the bed.
zip
zip.
I tried to
SCREAM.
but he covered my mouth.
tears
blood
hurt
mean
drunk
OW.

He threw my heels at me
left me to rot
in the host's parent's bedroom.
jeans still down.
tears coming like waves of crippling pain.
and the shame that shouldn't be there was.
He went back to the party.
I retreated into the pillows.

Now I'm a whore
because I called the police.
He calls me a
Freak.
I just want attention.
Everyone knows I wanted it too.
Still weeping.
Pants still down.
I was a
dirty little hoe
for calling him out
on doing
what he did.
I'm a loser.
I'm a pathetic
little slut.

They don't hear the heavy breaths
or taste the beer on his chapped, cracked lips
or feel the blood pour fresh on their wrists
or remember.
the night.
my world went black.
downhill.
i turned into a mess of runny mascara and shattered dreams.
from a beautiful women to a cowering child
in 4 minutes
23 seconds
flat.
They don't count the days till they can run away.
Till they don't have to hide anymore.
Till they don't have to cry.
Till they don't remember
the beating of two hearts,
as one writhed in pain
and one danced in sin.
and they don't
feel
his
body
suffocating
your
own.

I was asking for it.