TW: Rape, loss of agency, suicidal thoughts, slurs.
And here I sit in silence.
I shouldn't have to say if I were drunk
or if my skirt was short, my top was tight.
And neither should I feel so fucking lost
or wear the badge they give to me of bitch.
Nor made to feel as if I always lie.
Awake at night in darkness lie.
Awake, again. Surrounded by the silence,
but for the breath of those who love this bitch
enough. I rarely drink, do not get drunk
Except with those I trust to see me lost
The comforters who kiss and hold me tight
Rope around my neck so tight.
A phantom pain. It hurts me still, no lie.
I dream at night of all the things I've lost,
the friendships gone. The days that forced the silence
from me. And brought the line 'but, he was drunk'.
to every conversation. Let them bitch.
What role left for me but bitch?
Or am I slut, or tease, or am I tight?
Am I the one at fault for being drunk?
Are they good people? Do these memories lie?
The questions scream. Alone I die in silence.
This is the worst. You doubt yourself, you're lost.
The world is dark, hope is lost,
From lack of trust and lack of care. Bitch
please? Why would I break my saving silence
just to tell a lie? False fairness holds us tight,
that they are good and they would never lie.
You wonder why some women get so drunk?
He was, I was, we were drunk,
me more than him, that time. I became lost
in clouds of booze. I did not think that he would lie.
He forced me while I cried. He called me bitch
He pushed my legs apart, My eyes shut tight
Against his breath, that day I wished for silence.
I sit in silence; he gets a woman drunk.
He grips her tight. I feel so lost.
And they will call her bitch and we all know she'll lie.