no.
no means no.
when he asked her and she replied with “no” he took it as a yes.
thrashing limbs, desperate for a way out;
discarded clothing.
a rose pink dress, piled in a heap on the floor
tailored and made by her dearest mother,
made his crime all the more easier to do,
it was tossed;
forgotten in a fit of one-sided lust.
“no”.
screaming, crying, and begging for help,
until she cannot breathe.
her lungs filled with the pain of hopelessness,
drowning in a pool of her own cries.
but he,
he is too busy to hear,
inches deep inside of her most pure, secluded aspect.
lust blinds humanity
in this horizontal dance of the unspoken.
no means no.
unspoken,
but actions speak louder than words.
society hiding the truth,
like a thief,
burying stolen jewels.
but rape is not a jewel.
we need not see a glint to know ‘tis there.
it exists.
in a dull, tasteless world
hidden behind false colors,
it exists.
no means no.
she did not fight back after a while,
she gave up.
because in the end, she had lost from the beginning.