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What am I supposed to do with that?
They handed me ammunition and then told me not to hurt anyone, even if they strike first. I have no weapon. What am I supposed to do with that?
They nailed the target to my heart and to my limbs and told me it wouldn’t stop them from firing even if I was bleeding out. What am I supposed to do with that?
They shouted at me and wrote horrible words all over my tongue and on my face and told me it would still make me ugly even if I dared to wipe it off and call myself beautiful. What am I supposed to do with that?
They told me that I was the problem for being honest and for making them look bad. They threatened to hurt me for caring about myself and about how other people were being treated by bullies, such as themselves. They told me that they would never apologise even if they had to see me burn first. What am I supposed to do with that?
They told me I was a witch and that they refused to ever leave me alone even if they had to kill me first. What am I supposed to do with that?
They kicked me, punched me, pinched me, scratched me, slapped me, spat at me and stripped me of all my clothing. They raped me, they burnt me, they ran me over with their own body weight and with their toys, with my own bike that they could barely fit on; Then with their own bikes; With their boots and with their heels and with their partners and groups of friends and communities of extended strangers that they acquainted with for the day and for the night that they called their loving family and friends. What am I supposed to do with that?
They celebrated what they did and then they drugged and injured my head to force me to forget all about it. Then I saw them again at school, at the supermarket, at the doctors, at the park, on the streets, on my way home from school; Back when I was too small to walk the other way and had to smile through the pain. Then I saw them at the place I worked at when I grew to be a teenager and a woman; When I had forgotten who they were but had always had a bad feeling about them and chose to avoid them “just in...
They nailed the target to my heart and to my limbs and told me it wouldn’t stop them from firing even if I was bleeding out. What am I supposed to do with that?
They shouted at me and wrote horrible words all over my tongue and on my face and told me it would still make me ugly even if I dared to wipe it off and call myself beautiful. What am I supposed to do with that?
They told me that I was the problem for being honest and for making them look bad. They threatened to hurt me for caring about myself and about how other people were being treated by bullies, such as themselves. They told me that they would never apologise even if they had to see me burn first. What am I supposed to do with that?
They told me I was a witch and that they refused to ever leave me alone even if they had to kill me first. What am I supposed to do with that?
They kicked me, punched me, pinched me, scratched me, slapped me, spat at me and stripped me of all my clothing. They raped me, they burnt me, they ran me over with their own body weight and with their toys, with my own bike that they could barely fit on; Then with their own bikes; With their boots and with their heels and with their partners and groups of friends and communities of extended strangers that they acquainted with for the day and for the night that they called their loving family and friends. What am I supposed to do with that?
They celebrated what they did and then they drugged and injured my head to force me to forget all about it. Then I saw them again at school, at the supermarket, at the doctors, at the park, on the streets, on my way home from school; Back when I was too small to walk the other way and had to smile through the pain. Then I saw them at the place I worked at when I grew to be a teenager and a woman; When I had forgotten who they were but had always had a bad feeling about them and chose to avoid them “just in...
