Do you remember the pain
of the bludgeoning of your pelvic bone,
and of your tailbone being ground and splintered into the floor?
And then, the sharpness and agony
races up the spine
centering itself well in the neck
and on to the already inflamed skull?
Can you recall the feelings of helplessness and terror
as you struggled for both breath and freedom?
Do you understand why you curled up into your head,
while still being immersed in the action of sexuality
(of another's)?
Did you see the bruises and the redness,
the rawness of being used and handled so roughly?
Do you know why the claustrophobia and splitting
reigned so fiercely
when you were held by force and weight
and a single-fisted grip of steel?
Can you fathom why you vomit inside your mouth,
yet never let the bile and (....what else?) out
and fight so hard against that urge?
Do you remember choking and suffocating
in the midst of supposedly loving or being loved,
because you were so privileged to be the chosen one
to satisfy the desires,
and knowing that you might not live through the act,
but most certainly not afterwards
if you did not succumb obediently?
Is there any way for you to understand
the bits of imagined pleasure
related to your own sexuality,
those betraying anatomical parts of your body?
Do you understand the shame and self-hatred
that is buried so deeply?
© 1997 by Morgan Wolfe