One, (two), three, four, five

It's racking up now but I'm still keeping track,
The violations are numbered and there's no going back.

Each time particular, each rape has its twist,
Some worse than others on the ill-fated list.

With each passing tale I tell, I hope that I will find,
Some kind of solace from the numbness inside.

You see I have no feelings, no anger to hide,
My blood never boiled nor have I yet cried.

I hope this poem will spark some feeling in me,
Lets start with the first one, I guess we'll soon see.

ONE

The snippets and flashes are vivid through haze,
I was nineteen years old when I caught ONE's cold gaze.

ONE had a friend, I guess he's called TWO,
Not sure which of them did it, I haven't a clue.

Left in a bar by my irresponsible friend,
One drink, one spike which led to the end.

Blood on the sofa, seen as I scrambled out,
The pain unmistakeable, there couldn't be doubt.

THREE

This one was different, I knew and trusted THREE,
THREE was my boyfriend, I thought he cared for me.

But when the pleas are ignored, saying stop becomes thrill,
My defences were weaker, I should have stayed still.

But I rallied against him, writhing with all of my might,
My attempts are so futile, he's pinned me too tight.

For him, it's a game - he pretends it's all just a ruse,
But I'm beaten and shaken, my wrists start to bruise.

FOUR

I blame myself for this one, I was reckless you see,
But reeling from trauma, my drug habit consumed me.

He'd been rejected by me, how dare I do that?
Well that wouldn't stop him, G knocked me out flat.

I'd been carried and hidden, as limp as could be,
But his actions had been rumbled unbeknownst to me.

He said sorry after, I guess that makes it okay,
I accepted my rapist's apology that very same day.

FIVE

Dumped by my boyfriend, I was hurting inside,
A foolish decision led to violation number FIVE.

I went to York to be consoled by a 'friend',
I was vulnerable, distressed - on that he'd depend.

Or better yet still, G would ensure his success,
I can't fight him off if I'm not aware of duress.

This time, I woke mid-way when he began to smother me,
I kicked, I screamed and wrenched myself free.

--

ONE and (TWO), THREE, FOUR and FIVE,
Frankly, I wonder just quite how I'm alive.

I should feel emotion, I should feel distraught,
The numbness I feel, in nonchalance I'm caught.

Why can't I respond? Why don't I feel hate?
I guess that part of me died, a little too late.