I don't want to talk about it.

I don't anyone to undermine 
the way I was made to feel,
I don't want them to tell me to get over it,
Or act like it was no big deal.

I don't want your sympathy,
I don't want you to cry,
I don't want your questions,
or for you to continue to pry.

You cannot understand my experience 
My words are empty, meaningless and drained.
You don't know how I felt 
or of the injuries I sustained.

Why should I feel like it was my fault
for showing another some trust ?
Do not ask me why I didn't scream louder
as he continued to thrust.

Leave me alone .
You all want me to share myself out,
for you to consumed for your lust.
Keep your twisted morals on how the world works, 
and what is fair and just.

I don't want your attention, 
I don't want to know of your desires,
or the frustrations and excitement, 
Your lust for me inspires.
 

Was there some sort of misunderstanding ?
You tell me how you misunderstand No?
You tell me how misunderstand you've forced it in
but I am still saying it and pushing you off though.

Its a dangerous process,

but we still proceed with a blindfold,

Ignore these experiences, deny justice,

And let their stories go untold.

Was she really asking for it ?

Because of the dress she choose to wear ?

Did this give him an entitlement to her body ?

or  to tear her clothes or pull her hair?