30/03/2020
A blue Monday morning.
That day I wore my best dress cause I knew we were gonna meet. He knockes on my door I carry my jacket in case I came back late. He grabbes my hand and we take a walk he encompasses the way, he gives me an enigmatic smile as he turns into a small bush.
I keep on following him because Im held with trust for him, we've been dating for two years now.
He increases his pace but I can't keep up all I do is to stand and ask where his taking me, he closes my mouth with his hand and pushes me down.
Now Im down all I think about is our pretty past, he places his boot on my chest I cry cause Im feeling pain, he removes it. He takes the gun from his pocket and points it on my forehead, I feel defenceless all I can see is my after life.
He laughs and I asked why?
All he does is to reap my pretty dress from my flesh, touches my p***c area and gives it a little squeeze. I can still feel my thing breathing within the anchors of his fingers. He opens my thighs and makes me a woman before time, I scream and cry until all I feel his breath all over me and the tears that have dryed up and created wax on my face. He stands up blood flows from my legs he takes a p**s and walks away.
No one believes me now because I asked for it, Im that 6months old baby who's pride was taken by a stranger and died before I could be in the world only the walls of my room can tell you more.
I am that poor old 73year old woman who stays with her son who has failed so many times in life and decided to proof his manhood on me.
I am the definition of pain, struggle and blame.
We all have become the sacrificial lambs on alters of men who want to prove that they are man enough.
The problem starts when our mothers let us share the same table with uncles who have made us women enough for their beds, when our mothers believe our fathers more than us.
We are victims and victims never win💔
