I am not a casualty. I am not an emotional cripple. I am not a trinket for the horny. I am not for you, And I am not ever Going to forgive you. The blur of that night Will repeat vividly in my head Until the day I die.
Every night is that night.
The smell of fear and cheap perfume, Rage and mud, Screams and alcohol. You look at me. You lock the door. And you crawl, And you crawl, And you crawl. And I back up.