Of Rapists & Victims: II

Photo credit: @ownherworld

Read the first of the series here.

She walks through,

Roads filled with street signs and scars,

Of graffiti and tattoos on walls,

Sex symbols and misery in red,

RRUUN,

She knows not to stay,

She knows not to become one with the darkness of the night,

She knows not,

Of prostitutes and pimps that turn their hustle into songs,

And force strangers to sing,

9 p.m,

The streetlights flicker,

10,

The silence falls,

Schizophrenic,

Yet the voices go,

The clicks of heels hitting the ground,

Sing me to sleep,
Baby,

1036,

She paces,

Not slick on the gas pedal,

He notices,

Through the rear view mirror,

Through the iris of a sinner,

Through instinct,

He reverses,

Slick on the gas pedal,

She falls,

Legs confused by the pulse of fear,

Legs confused by the head games of her stilettos,

1035,

He steps out of the car,

1036,

His steps are quiet,

1037,

The stillness of lust masquerading as innocence,

1037,

Heavy,
The weight of his presence on her skin,

1037,

Heavy,
She feels undressed by the ghosts of his hands,

Heavy,
She feels herself shaping into the arc of his desire,

And breaking,

Sing me to sleep,

Baby,

Chills of the devil’s voice,

You are one of them now,

You are one of the girls.

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