Rape Poem by Teens

Overcoming Memories Of Sexual Assault

I have been reading about sexual assault and becoming more aware of this topic. This poem is dedicated to victims of sexual abuse.

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When I was little, about 1 or 2, the worst thing in the world happened to me. My mother was low on money for drugs and she wasn't bringing in enough men to feed me and have drugs, so she did...

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© more by Mia A. Lassiter

Published: January 2017

Images
branded into my memory,
hot with pain and guilt and hurt.

Images
flashing constantly
inside my head.

His greedy hands
touching me, feeling me,
wanting more, more, more.

Slithering up my thighs,
creeping down my back,
ricocheting fear through my being.

Images
of locked doors,
bolted windows, and closed shutters.

Remembrance of hot panic that
hijacked my soul
as the lights flickered off.

Images, images, images
boiling inside of me,
dying to be freed,

to be told, unleashed,
because I can't keep it a secret
any longer.

My words cut through
years of pain,
drunken, endless nights of

suffering and abuse, of
pain and guilt and hurt.
Pain, pain, pain that never ends.

I was surprised when others told me
they have gone through
the same.

I see images
similar to mine.
Images of

their father, brother, teacher
using them, hurting them.
Images of

the hands that cease to touch,
the consuming fear,
the guilt...

But I also see images of
healing, of escape, of
a better future.

I hold onto these images
as strength to persevere,
as a promise that life will get better.

It is not my fault.
I am not broken.
I have survived.

more by Mia A. Lassiter

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Has this poem touched you? Share your story!
  • Raji by Raji
  • 1 month ago

I was sexually abused by my neighbour for like 3 years (from 5-8 years of age), so the words kinda stab my heart and hit home. He did some horrible things. I don't open up fast, so it's all in there, the sadness, the anger, the embarrassment, everything. It's just accumulating and accumulating. I don't even know what to do at this point. The poem made me feel somewhat less lonely knowing I'm not alone in this. Thank you!

  • Mia Flint by Mia Flint
  • 1 year ago

One night I was with my neighbor's 16-year-old son and my sister. My parents had gone out on a dinner date. As soon as my parents left, he smiled at me and put my sister to sleep. I was watching a movie when he started asking me questions about my period and gross stuff like that. Then he ripped my clothes off and forced himself inside of me. I asked him at one point to stop and why was he doing this. He just said he will tell my parents if I donĀ“t have intercourse with him. I was afraid and did it. I kept on doing it until I was 14 and then I had the courage to tell someone. So I can relate to this poem more than ever.

  • Wynter Ogle by Wynter Ogle
  • 8 months ago

When I was little, about 1 or 2, the worst thing in the world happened to me. My mother was low on money for drugs and she wasn't bringing in enough men to feed me and have drugs, so she did something I'll never forgive her for. She let those men rape me for more money. I had to suffer for 3 years everyday having someone touch me and make me touch them. Then I went to a foster home and my new foster mother let it be known she was only in it for the money the state gave her. She would beat me and give me food from the trash and let her grandson rape me no matter how much I begged her to make him stop. Every time he came over he would come in while every one was sleeping and pull my pants down and put it in no matter how much I fought. He was older and stronger than me. I left that house ten years ago and am living with the most amazing family that gave me the world.

  • Madison Lee by Madison Lee
  • 3 years ago

When I was 17 I went to a party. I drank a little too much and everything went black. I woke up with a boy I thought was my friend inside of me. I survived, but every day I have flashbacks of his shocked face when I woke up.

  • Ria by Ria
  • 1 year ago

i had the same experience. What happened to me that night didn't sink in until a month later. Ever since then, I would just feel lost and cry whenever I remember how I woke up with someone I know, naked, no blanket and sore.

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