RapeFear What will I do when my time comes to lie split-melon on the wet pavement? When the dice of anger roll my number and I am picked to suffer this most intimate of slaughters and my screams are stoppered by empty night, what will I do? I have heard the statistics and the life-saving tips, yet when these fail me, I wonder if I will go a weeping bride or a dead one to his rough ministrations - for find me he will And I do not know what I will do. So I live each chill evening as if it will never happen, as if he was behind every scant bush and hard steel car waiting for me - I walk as if I fear nothing, my hand in my pocket holding my knife. I live my twilight life knowing only that when my turn comes I will carve my revenge in his ribs and hard cheeks as he forces his anger on my tender flesh.
Melissa D. Benjamin's Questions:
Is the imagry in this piece strong enough?
Do the lines breaks make sense?