Sunday, December 21, 2008

I Cried As If I Were His Daughter

This video comes with an extreme trigger warning as it discuss rape in vivid terms.

I simply have no words but I knew that this must be shared.

I Cried As If I Were His Daughter  (transcript)

He held my fingers to my mouth and said hush little girl because right now only me and you exist in this world. He took off his pants and began unzipping mine. I cried while thinking this isn’t the way I envisioned my first time but when I saw the blood pore from my legs, I thought if it wasn’t me the tears another girl would shed. I looked him in his eyes and realized that he was old enough to be someone's father, so I cried as if I was his daughter, as I felt my insides being slaughtered. I cried like she cried at night, locking her door praying for the illuminating existence of sunlight because when night came he came, pain came. Hoping that a bath could wash away the shame, hoping that a bath could wash away the sores that her vagina bore when her hymen was torn. Her bath washed away the semen but it didn’t wash away the memories of when he forced her to get on her knees and suck his – so I cried as if I was his daughter because of that rage and that possible AIDS between my legs, it could never add up to her pain, her distortion and her three different abortions and that one suicide not that she wrote saying mom, “I gotta go, don’t find out why I did this I love you. Even though I felt all alone just find a way to continue to be strong.” As he rammed his fingers in me I thought of reaching in my heart and pulling out my soul, now my ninety-eight point six degree body turned cold. I cried as if I was his daughter, lying there trying to hide her privates. This gave her reason to believe that God didn’t exist. Her mother knew that she heard sounds in the other room but she forced herself to believe that they were only cartoons as he licked my body up and down. I hope that he would ejaculate enough that in his own semen he would drown. He carved his name in my uterus so that my first born child could on be as cursed as ..inaudible.. thinking that this only happened in movies, she was the main character in the (inaudible) when she cried and he opened her credits. Too scared of the night, that is why she wished for ongoing sunlight. When he got off me I swear, I stabbed myself like his daughter cried because another pain wouldn’t feel good right now. I stabbed myself like his daughter cried because I could no longer look in the mirror. I stabbed myself like his daughter cried for him making me want to be gay. I stabbed myself like his daughter cried over the 160 babies that would be raped the next day. I cried as if I was he daughter because of that rage, that possible AIDS between my legs it could never add up to her pain, her distortion her three different abortions . That one suicide note that she wrote saying, Mom I gotta go. Don’t find out why I did this, I love you. Even though I know all along, but honestly nothing more tragic could help me write a better poem . I looked him in his eyes and realized that he was old enough to be someone’s father, but I looked him in his eyes and realized that he was old enough to be someone’s father, so Mom I died because I was his daughter.

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