Rape

• Brooke Beauchamp, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2008

My wrists cut themselves
When you are near
You forced me to do it
I’m tonight’s prey
I wasn’t strong enough
I couldn’t fight you off
If there was a time
That I needed a knife
It was at that moment

You’re a sickly beast
Preying on women
Old or young
You filthy animal
Take your hands off
You can’t get any
So you take it
You steal it

You’re a thief
Taking what’s not yours
You should be ashamed
But you’re not
You know you’ll get off
You know I won’t tell anyone
Til it’s too late
You know that I
Will be without evidence
And you’ll go free
So my wrists will keep bleeding