One hand

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At fifteen a lewd boy, only 5’5 asked;

Will you pose for me with your legs spread?

She hadn’t shaved in three days, the stubble rubbed the backs of her calf where she pressed against enamel bath

A maelstrom in her eyes instead of pupils

He said; good, good, excellent, just like that … ba-aby

Now … Open them

And she remembered the first time she unfurled

Like those Chinese paper flowers that grow in water

A warm rose bud disturbed by prying fingers

She recalled the way unwanted thumb pealed her exposed

A fruit chewed on before ripening

The sting afterwards

Like she’d dried out all her moisture and hung like a salted fish to be slapped and dismissed

If she gave this boy, with sweat on his lip instead of hair, his hand down his pants yanking something terrible, a rolling storm, tattooing bruised landscape

His way would become her path

What would be next?

Can you scissor yourself over my friend and lower down like a stray bullet?

We’ll make money and you’ll have value

I’ll take care of you, afterward you can pretend it didn’t happen

We’ll smoke away the taste and I’ll move inside you until you release

Regret

It’s easier to prostitute yourself when nobody has your back and you didn’t learn how

To save yourself, to feel your worth

The sabotage within, so achingly familiar

If I do it’ll be like every other time I ruined myself over nothing, you say

Feeling deserving of the pain, shame is a funny fellow, makes you quite attached

When you’re adrift and running on empty

Who knew how easy it was to ruin a child?

Set in place, steps of greater sabotage

She could feel their sticky fingers on her thighs

The voices murmuring, it’s what you deserve

Sickness in a learned desire to be debased

On her knees being ridden like a horse, the riders

Grabbing her innocence, one handful of hair at a time

Til she was all used up and another empty set of eyes

Waiting for the next fix

She saw herself at thirty, dying in an empty room

And the boy who encouraged her now, high on himself and the vigor of youth

Didn’t know how easy it would be for her to tumble down the rabbit hole, he only thought of

Getting his cock sucked and how he could brag if she’d pose for his fantasies

She wasn’t his, she didn’t want to be the next hole, willingly bent over

She wasn’t a plastic doll or his fist, she didn’t exist for him to spank himself off

Her image was sacrosanct, her body inviolate

Her legs weren’t going to open and be his willing whore

Just because she felt empty inside and his thin flattery pretended to assuage, all the pain and losses

That wasn’t her path

He didn’t get to see her center or hold her up for inspection

The fine line between loss and lost is not so fine

She stood up for herself for the first time and learned

What we do, matters, impacts us, stays like a cancer

Life already hard, she needed all the breaks she could get

It began with leaving and not looking back

At the boy holding a camera in one hand

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77 thoughts on “One hand

  1. I love your wisdom my friend. You always inspire me with the perspectives you have on life. You are truly the insight I long for in this world and you inspire me with your journey. Thank you.

  2. Thank you so very much I really appreciate you reading this and your response. I am sure as you are aware of this, you will do all you can to prevent it and that is all we can do, the rest is up to your children who if you teach them right often can avoid such pitfalls I pray that be so for the sake of all girls going forward, knowing that if they are damaged it makes it harder but not impossible. Thank you so much again for your lovely words

  3. Exactly right. I pray that they make good decisions. It is not impossible but just challenging with so many bad things out there, but truly I believe in the power of even the very young to know how to save themselves. Doing your best is more than many do, and I know it will set them on the right road. xo

  4. I saw that interview, and yes, I always enjoyed her as an actress, and I imagine she has been a role model for so many, yet we understand there is a confirmation bias, when a world that made he who she is and what she has is challenged, it would be rare for one to speak out against it. The old world is breaking down, there is a new generation, not of people, but of souls who are coming through, to live through the breakdown of all the insanity, and rebuild the world. I want to see a world like the Eloi in HG Wells Time Machine, but of course without the Morlocks! They are already hear and they already are eating the Eloi, not our flesh, but our vitality – Don’t get me started on vampires!

  5. I am. It is still hard and a long road, but I think I will recover completely. The hardest part being the psychological scars of being sick so long and the horror of that. Thank you so much for asking and caring. I am so glad to ‘see’ you here and hope you are doing well my friend xo BIG HUG

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