The Whitewashed Wall

My mind failed me

Dry hopelessness evident in my widened eyes

My limbs failed me

Frozen and unmoving

I failed myself

As another took control over me

Trailing trails of electric touches over my tender flesh

Because that’s all I was at the end of it

Meat to be used for another’s pleasure

Empty words of insincere comfort were muttered

“There now, be quiet, it’s alright”

As his hands explored

Taking advantage of my lack of response

The smell of cigarettes was heavy on him

As he leaned in, burying his face in the nook of my neck

“Stop,” I croaked

That only seemed to encourage him

I saw the wanton lust burning in his eyes

As I felt him against me

“No.”

I managed to say louder

The words were of no consequence

With a sudden forceful move

I was slammed against the rough whitewashed wall

All I saw was the wall

But what I felt was so much more

Violated, for one

And pain, as it is ripped through my body

My hands raked at the whitewashed wall

My nails broke and bled

My labored breathing was loud

But his guttural moans of pleasure were louder

Each thrust sending an intense wave of pain through me

I whimpered against the whitewashed wall

My hands curled into fists

My nails bit into the skin of my palm

His grip on me was unyielding

As his hand dug into my side

And held my face against the whitewashed wall

And then suddenly, it was over

And I realized it was only him holding me up

For as he left

I crumpled to the ground

A dull ache between my legs

Curling up as the tears welled

Staring at the smears of red on the whitewashed wall

Echoing the same words again and again

But only when it didn’t matter anymore.

I live 

But not truly

I live

But as an empty vessel

For that was the day I died

In front of the whitewashed wall.