Violated*

I knew my attacker was coming. But I did not run away.

I provoked him with my desperation for affection,

my lonely heart, and my confusion as to why I am unwanted.

I have wanted "love" so much.

So much that any form of love, even in being faked,

I am willing to take in.

He arrived at the highest point of loneliness and inadequacy.

He promised warm, loving, and eternal arms

He spoke soft words and soothed my loneliness with knowing hands

He dug a hole under me and laid me in, all his for the taking.

And I surrendered everything I have.

I was weak, I could not fight. I have refused help.

I have refused any other hand that his.

And he violated me, took advantage of that moment's meekness

As what I would have expected, he did not stay until daylight

He was gone before he could accompany me the next morning

Everything about him left -- his warmth, reassurance, and promises.
Left in cold brokenness, I pick up the jagged, hopeless pieces.

And now here I am feeling dirty and disgusting.

For allowing him to do this to me again.

What I thought was freedom was actually a free-fall

I woke up, down on my knees, lonelier than I was last night:

abandoned, left behind, used, and still unwanted.

I wanted so much to break away from him.

But I keep substituting true satisfaction with desperation.

*just poetry.