Ripped by Anonymous


The first thing she notices are the bruises—
lilac stains pressing into her like fingers.
She feels them

all over—


persistent, heavy, blunt
but sharper in
her core.

She feels ripped open.


With throbbing head and sandpaper tongue
she watches a broken film projector
in a room she doesn’t know.

Relax, I promise you’ll like it.


With soft words and rohypnol,
he traps her in
a bed made of petals.

Inside her


head is entropy
of tangled sheets

red roses ripped apart.


She is disappearing
into the space between her legs,
slowly mending what

he ripped.


Now she flinches at
her best friend’s touch,
his hands closed like buds,

and every breath is harder.


Anonymous is a 20 year old poet who believes strongly in the beauty of words and their power to move and change people.




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