Rape

He comes at me as a beast, foul breath, warm skin, and
he tears off my clothes and pins me down
while I speak to him, but my words have no meaning
so then I do what I have seen rabbits do
I lay so still that it no longer matters
what exactly he does to me
It's not like it can kill me
It's not like I can die
Bare skin against bare skin,
panting,
And it's like I am asleep, in a dreamlike state,
where nothing matters, and nothing registers
and my body is a toy for a rabid animal when
he rips me open
between my thighs
And he's rubbing and moaning like there's some kind of fun
that I'm not a part of
And in nightmares it will be pleasant, but right now it's like he's killing me
He's killing me, killing me with flesh,
And I lay petrified until my eyes go closed, and I think:
"Human raped by beast! Human raped by beast!"
but I'm not even allowed my anger
He can't help it, he is an animal, he doesn't understand
Yet when he pulls away and puts his clothes on he dresses like a man
with the same four limbs and the same two eyes
and his legs stretch out and his arms are short
and he stands up tall and he goes to work
in an office
with all his modern devices and his modern talk
"It's just what I bring out in him," I'll say,
when asked about the bleeding hole inside of me,
sluggishly dripping with shame
It drips onto the red boots I haven't worn since I was five
and it never stops
dripping
And somehow, it's no different than when mauled by an animal,
whom you can't really blame,
because there was no vile intention
And it hurts, sure, but it's not like this body was ever mine,
and it's not like I could die
It's not like it could kill me
And it's not so much a matter as to whether he is guilty
I'm just glad I'm still alive