submitted by Jamesey Lefebure, Liverpool, UK
As he lays his head down to sleep,
Little Mike keeps his ears open,
For the carpet muffled sound of feet.
The familiar shadow who has a date to keep,
With an unquenched hunger for child meat.
As foreign shadows jump and dance around the room,
Our little Mike tried to embrace the surrounding gloom,
One ear open – both eye’s closed
Poor little Mike awaits his doom.
A sliver of light cuts through the dark,
Bringing invisible icicles that form on young mikes hear;
Knowing this is how it begins, Mike stiffens his body
And prays for the end of his part.
He feels the breath on his neck,
It’s hot, its cold, it’s dry its wet,
Mike lets out a whimper, the hairy hand tightens it grasp
Mike knows his nearly paid tonight’s debt.
The breathing is faster now, Mike knows its close to an end
This violation is almost over now, Mike’s heart can slowly begin to mend.
With eye’s closed tight, Mike begins to pray – a nightly plight.
He prays to the god of puppies, football sweets and treats.
But as for now –his young body is the meat.
Mike is only a child, his body was once pure.
He wishes for death; like it’s his only cure.
Poor Mike’s has not had the life that a boy of 7 should deserve
But in his innocence he has hope to preserve.
The shadow is over his face again now,
The act is over and both actors must take a bow.
A figure of power and trust,
has ruined Mikes life with his perverted lust.
The shadowed figure lingers in the door,
a part of his body twitches for more.
He breaks the silence, with words that carry the usual bite.
“I love you Mike”
His eye’s wet with tears,
his head giddy with childhood fears,
he moves his mouth and whispers
I love you Dad.
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submitted by Ender / Unrestrained, Burlington, VT
click to play: Out of the Dust by Unrestrained
Beth felt so alone,
and she knew she was wronged,
but as much as she tried,
she just couldn’t tell any one.
And she leaves a light on, but she’s not sleeping.
It’s a new world out there, when her eyes close it’s him she’s seeing.
That horrible grin, the terrible touch,
he’s in control and she’s had enough.
She begs him to stop but he just wouldn’t have it,
she may never undo this damage.
A thousand times she cries out for help, but no one else can hear her now.
She closes her eyes wondering when will it end…. but sadly this is where her story, her story begins.
Now she suffers in silence, though she screams out loud.
Can’t wash her body clean, still feels him all around.
And her friends don’t believe her stating, “oh, he’d never do that”.
She puts her head down and whispers “I guess you don’t know jack”
and she feels the anger build up inside her…
“YOU DON’T KNOW JACK”
And she imagines anyone that’s ever felt this way, surrounding her, and with a warm voice they say…”We’ll come out of the dust”
And she’ll say to him:
“We’re here, to see you crawl. We came, to hear you beg. We want to watch it hurt.”
And these aren’t just words, that pour from me, the moral is, it’s not just a story….
When there’s still a Beth, on every street, and there’s still a Jack, on every block.
submitted by LaQuisha Hall, Mrs. Owings Mills International 2009, Owings Mills, MD
Butter Fly: While bent over in a dark corner, I always prayed for light. The butterfly brings brought color and protection while I suffered in darkness.
Silent No More (A poem written to the pedophile who abused me 14 years ago.)
you stabbed Me
then sniffed around with an anxious nose
Left Me naked
in a world where no one knows
am I a girl or a woman?
do you not see a distinction?
Gain a closer look at Someone in which
you should not have a relation
Thinking back
I could have kicked, yelled or screamed
Only to awaken detrimental emotions
Leaving My mind demeaned
What if I told the first time?
I could not pray, I could not sleep
you waltz into another room
all I do is weep
you are a man of valor
in their community
they all fall at your feet and praise you
where was My immunity?
when I stood up for Myself
to uncover My voice
My mother turns the other cheek
My father gives you a choice
you could live in another world
or die in his sight
but My life continues on
a battle I constantly fight
you may have stole from My future
leaving Me much to restore
but you taught Me a valued lesson for
I am silent no more.
You are invited...
to submit to Break the Silence Project.
Break the Silence Project encourages the exploration of issues surrounding sexual violence through creative means in order to promote self-expression, to provide a possibility for healing and community-building, and to further raise public awareness and dialogue on these subjects.
Help raise awareness about sexual violence. Share your story, write a poem or a song, make a drawing or painting, take a picture, cut and paste... Whatever works for you.
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