In honor of April being Sexual Assault Awareness month, I am sharing with you a very personal poem I wrote about one of my friends. My close friend was sexually abused by his father for almost his entire life. Many do not realize how many boys are sexually assaulted because the focus is primarily on girls. According to 1in6.org, 1 in 6 men have been sexually abused or assaulted.
By the time my friend came forward with what had been going on behind closed doors, it was too late. The pain was too much for him and he took his own life. This poem is in the point of view of him. I am a very empathetic person so I was able to put myself in his shoes while writing this. For some of you, this may be a very tough read.
IF YOU KNOW A VICTIM OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, SPEAK UP.
YOUR VOICE COULD SAVE A LIFE.
Prisoner in my Own Home
Most don’t think that rape,
Can happen to a boy,
Little did they know,
I was my father’s toy.
Creak, creak, creak, the floorboards go,
Oh no, he’s coming up the stairs,
I start breathing heavy,
And hope that god can hear my prayers.
Shaking in silence,
I’m a mess of sweat and tears,
He slams open the door,
Out of nowhere he appears.
The smell of sweet liquor and smoke fill the room,
I can no longer breathe,
My lungs are filled with doom.
He throws his first punch,
And I try my best to duck,
But he’s too quick,
And I’m out of luck.
As I fly back,
The concrete floor catches my fall,
I think my back is broken,
I begin to bawl.
Nowhere to run,
Nowhere to hide,
No way to escape,
No matter how hard I tried.
He drags me by my shirt,
And forces me on to the bed,
He rips off my clothes,
As I attempt to fight back,
I wish I were dead.
Blood-curdling screams of anguish,
Come from mommy who’s downstairs,
She’s too scared to call the cops,
So she starts throwing chairs.
She knows what daddy is doing to me,
For he beats and rapes her too,
But she is beside herself,
And pretends that what daddy is doing isn’t true.
Daddy is a monster,
For I see the evil in his eyes,
As he touches me aggressively,
I know he’s the devil in disguise.
I swim in a pool of my own tears,
As at peace the neighbors sleep,
Nobody ever hears,
So I continue to weep.
My innocence was taken away,
At just the age of three,
A prisoner in my own home,
I wonder what it’s like to be free.
13 years later,
And it’s still the same abuse,
For the bruises and cuts,
I always have an excuse.
There is so much pain within me,
So I beat myself up more,
By slicing my skin open with knives,
And watching the blood from my wounds pour.
I think it’s time I tell a teacher,
So the abuse can be put to rest,
But I’m afraid no one will believe me,
And think I’m just a pest.
Eventually I built the courage to rat my daddy out,
And he was put in jail,
I thought I would feel better,
But I still felt so frail.
After all I have gone through,
I knew earth wasn’t the place for me,
So I sent myself to heaven,
Where a good life was guaranteed.