I choose not to see
The thoughts that ran through my mind-
dark and primitive
As you yelled and hooted.
I chose not to hear
The words you used to describe me,
Slut, whore, a bitch easy to score.
I chose not to think
About the times you slipped your hand into my blouse,
Hungry and lustful
Wanting for more.
I chose not to taste,
Blood that oozed from my lips,
Warm and fresh-
Results of your unfiltered thoughts.
I chose not to smell
Your intoxicated breath,
It made me cry
As you shuffled and crashed into the bedroom,
Kissing the scars on my lips
Touching the bruises on my hip.
But I choose to stare at the pale walls
The frigid tiles
The heavy door locked from outside
Clad in white gown
Inert and unhinged
I continued talking to you in my head.
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