once upon a time

i was once a girl

never innocent, never carefree

i was once a girl

living and breathing

sometimes hoping, sometimes praying

i was once a girl

now i am a disease

to be avoided

to be locked away

to be quarantined

examined by the brilliant

the brilliant

with the letters

certifying their certainty

the brilliant

with adjectives

clarifying their clarity

to the brilliant

i am a study in oddity

i was once a girl

nervous system in tact

who loved and who desired

i was once a girl

blood carrying oxygen

dreamed of bits of peace

i was once a girl

but that girl is an apparition

of a psyche broken, forgotten, plagued

i was once a girl

who ate the pomegranate seeds

i was once a girl

never to recovery or emerge from destiny


fish heads and amphetamines

the gall you have tucked away for occasions

you are an insect

a vermin

scrounging in the waste of life

consuming and taking

a sickness

repugnant in all aspects

hallucinations of valor and importance

caused by crystal insomnia

stealing and whoring

all the time assuring yourself

you are stellar

it’s normal

it’s acceptable

even exceptional

the way you slither and shake

a convict with conviction


a love for the lord almighty with the pull back

the cousin of the cousin of the mother of the girls you broke and terrorized

dancing cheek to cheek

after a few miller lites and great gods of ganja

but the best is yet to come

the big score always around the next corner

there is overpopulation and starvation

and the world has to give space

to the duo of blithering idiot transgressor

your actions have made you invalid as a human

you are something much less

i would say you are evil

but you are just too fucking pathetic

for such adjectives

half dead with the orange sickness

the dancing antibodies of the methhead

making reservations for a night at the park

the lip-smacking cretin plus one


it’s a pathetic loathsome life

with pathetic loathsome people

nothing left but a broke mule whore of a lover

you’re bad taste in the back of the throat

a shadow on a leash

the fool doing the alphabet shuffle

kickin it in head bob park

you are the spotlight for after-school specials and don’t do drug campaigns

but fading fast falling

falling face first onto concrete-the last memory of past lives

ghosts from twenty-something years ago still haunting

staying hidden in the rafters of my subconscious, waiting

quiet and unobtrusive until weakness ushers in opportunity

then the cartoon flip book of broken memories comes out

white pages filled with diluted recall, attempts at justification

rudimentary stick figures act out the events as if on broadway

playing out the drunken stupor and decisions taken away

the flash of faces in a dream or featured in a commercial

seeing the eyes in maniacs screaming in ecstasy at dog fights

the smiles of demons spread across the faces of mall walkers

holding onto sanity simply due to the inability to see it all

silent thanks whispered in the wind and rain for amnesia

but leaving behind the gift of toxicity and social immortality

enough to make the nuns run in fear hands over mouths

heavy chains preventing escape rattle when the past lives

the clairvoyance of betrayal and dismissal as heads turn

family, friends, lovers quickly retreating into the darkness

there was no dissension as the unspeakable sins began

the women walking away quickly, a thanks it was not them

the men remaining, watching, preparing dicks hard and ready

wrists and ankles bruised, hair full of lawn clippings and pollen

clothes tattered and torn, the smell of dried blood permeating

stumbling through city streets baking in the texas summer sun

falling into the house, my safety, my refuge, i was finally home

there were questions i could not ask, answers i could not face

a hepatic hiccup under control, keeping the monsters at bay

the missing details can scratch the brain in moments of quiet

boones farm and rohypnal guarding the psyche against invasion

the history of a girl from long ago, the death of the yellow rose

silent night, holy night (trigger warning- graphic rape and death and truth)

there are many monsters finding homes in shadows

setting up shop in back alleys and underground tunnels

they get together and draw a picture of a predator

detailing his pointy teeth, goatee, gold medallions

getting lost in the forest of chest hair

the hunched shoulders

the van of abduction

white tinted windows with logos of ice cream

“children you need to be careful and don’t go with strangers”

“you can get hurt, they can do bad things!”

“stranger danger”

the stories of pedophiles peddling candy to the innocent

or the box of puppies used to entice little girls and boys away

we forget about the children who go home and the evil emerges

the hunter in a stand waiting with bated breath for game

the villain in the walls and the fear and hatred of life

the turning of heads and denial of responsibility by others

“sorry, kiddo, i gotta work then i have a yoga class, busy schedule”

there is no hideaway

no treehouse

no neighbor with rosy cheeks

the good boys and girls have been told by their mommies and daddies

that you are not the good person they should be seen in public with

and even though you are not to blame you are not to be talked to

you carry in your hands the alpha and omega of karmic proportions

a very sad victim of circumstance

drugs, rocknroll and rape

the screaming voice

begging for help

has been taken and burned

any chance of escape slips further away

as you watch more and more

initiates into the taboo of moral decline and killers of ego

dance past with a smile, a nod, a pat on the head

all the while you maintain a constant look out

for the escape hatch or hidden button

the scooby doo bookcase that flips you into the safety

a passageway between your bed and the outside

outside is more inviting than home

when the devil sees you

honing in on an opportunity

to revisit the room full of dolls

dolls with the sparkling happy faces and the hymen intact

you know the routine

turn your head

eyes closed

block it out

don’t make a sound

this is the emmy winning drama “the rapist of my life”

you were left and he took over

breaking promises

forging lies of glittering silver and needle marks

you can smell it in his sweat dripping on your face

the egg of death and starter fluid

a gooey violent center


sending sickness swimming

down your thighs

the dreams of ponies, rainbows, and pretty pink flowers

have been boxed up and given away to other children

you have no more time for things such as those

there is no use to have dolls when you can have babies

bearing the sin of the father

growing and nurturing

your childhood replaced with a child of your own

a ten year old mother

smart enough and strong enough

to find a hope and a prayer

for the salvation of the future

after the midnight “bonding”

the taking and shaking

as mother screams “why do you want her more than me”

it’s safe to close your eyes and search for a hope and a safety

a time of frantic praying to anything

a wish on every star

“star light star bright first star i see tonight

i wish i may

i wish i might

have the wish i wish tonight!”

soothing words

a song of hope that died long ago

reborn renewed

a prayer

a mantra

a dream

a fantasy

begging the omnipotent

the one who turned on you as you face the house of horrors alone

god and the devil in casinos and your life as betting chips

rolling dice and drinking shots while you becoming the new job

growing a monster

made of a monster

in a monster paradise

the king dick of killers of innocence and murderers of love

the repo man hitching your innocence up and towing it away

the last hope

the only solace left in the darkness and terror

the cold dark blood stained sheets and the pillow soaked in tears

the thing that will be human

it moves and kicks twisting inside

a light

one ray of hope shining through the curtain and darkness

pacts and promises offered and no response from the shop upstairs

it moves


expanding your belly

eating the baby fat still left in your cheeks

you are no longer a baby and it is time that you are a woman

the mother of your brother who grows inside planted by the father

the off ramps all closed for repair

leaving only one escape

as the water spills down

mixing with the nightly bank deposits

the liquid reminder that you are daddy’s favorite girl and toy

as the mother screams in jealous rages and forgets her duties

the morality killed by needles full of poison and insanity

the problems of the screaming devils no longer audible

the only sound is the sound of catching your breath in pain

the sound of your feet scurrying for the items packed away

the case of preparation built months before in silence

“the next pain it will be time, are you ready? you can do it!”

legs and feet prepared, all the ritual tools at the ready

10 year old birth canal in action

the magical truth found-the life and death of everything

it is never clean

never pretty

blood in blood out

as the pain begins under the ribs

moving down

the huge mass folding in on itself

body screaming

there will be no baby, no doll, it’s time for daddy’s girls to go

no prayers, no crying, one sound heard:a shot to the head

the unholy product is taken gently by the silence of the newly dead

oooo it’s real!!!

oooo it's real!!!

this reasoning is so ridiculous that my eyes are crossed and i feel the need to smash a brick over this guy’s head! i am utterly beyond disgusted at this! i really really really wish that these rightwing idiot dicks would please learn a bit about prenatal development! sorry a fetus is not even a fetus for the first like 6 weeks, there is no brain until 20 weeks and no, i mean no, neuroprocessing until 24 weeks. on top of that they have no consciousness it’s reaction to stimuli, not any decision making! are you kidding me? a fetus can’t feel shit until 24+ weeks, and don’t think there is any state in the union sanctions post 24 week abortions unless there is a medically necessary reason-fetal or maternal distress-and even then it’s considered birth not abortion and the fetus will be treated like a premature newborn. they have gills or what passes for gills! are you kidding me???
my belief is that if a guy can get away w raping a woman, i can get away with cutting the balls off of every single guy who’s name starts with “l” shoving them in his ears because at least then i am killing anything.

caution explicit content! rape culture playing hide and seek in alleys

the game of patient hiding

behind the dumpster

crouching ready to pounce

hands squeezing throats

slamming a head against pavement

ripping the  checkered dress

pull it over the eyes

exciting when she screams

she will never forget

being with a real man

she will stop fighting it

they all stop resisting

“stupid bitch, stop crying!

you are lucky i found you

now you belong to me!”

stealing the innocence

of little girls with pigtails

they will go to the cops

who will test and probe

finding nothing

except a broken girl infected

soon to sick to breathe

bleeding out her dreams

on the wet concrete

see you know the law

innocent until proven guilty

that is their fatal flaw

skirting justice, laughing

holding all the tricks

knowing the shimmy jimmy

playing dodge ball in life

it may work, you think you got away

but it comes creeping and crawling

a punch to the gut unexpected

karma’s got you by the balls

universal righteousness

time to pay the price

the hunter being hunted

time reversal you playing the prey

you are in the cross-hairs

metal cold in hands

the sight to the eye

finger pulls the trigger

and lets the bullets fly

warning-issue of sexual abuse towards men

warning-issue of sexual abuse towards men

society pretty much scoffs off the idea of males being the victim of sexual abuse.  the arguments are generally

  • how can a man get raped by a woman?  -well, for those ppl that aren’t aware an erect penis is just a matter of blood flow to the area, that can be accomplished by any number of ways.
  • if a male is sexually assaulted by another male he is gay and was giving off that gay vibe.  this is bullshit.  victims are not ever asking for it, male or female, gay or straight-abuse is abuse and it is never ok!  why do we feel we need to emasculate men when they are vulnerable, comparing them to women and devaluing them as “true men”?
  • if a man has an orgasm he liked it, so it can’t be rape.  ejaculation and orgasms are just another biological reaction to friction on certain nerves and tissues.  despite our attachment to the idea of orgasm meaning enjoyable sex, that is not the case.
  • men can’t be drugged and assaulted
  • men can’t have drunk sex
  • a man could get out of the situation if he wanted to.
  • what guy doesn’t want to have sex?

and so on and so forth.  because of these incredibly inaccurate view of maleness so many men go without reporting and live in shame and guilt.  when they do report, the crime is rarely investigated with vigor, leaving the victim in the cold and the predators in the streets.   

seeing these images are heartbreaking.  knowing the extreme pain, humiliation and degradation of sexual assault myself compounding that with the social stigma of being male and getting sexually assaulted is almost unimaginable.  we hush our voices when talking about rape, consent, rape culture, slut shaming, but when discussing these things in a masculine perspective the conversations are muted completely.  the men in these photos are standing up for so many more, holding the pain of this issue on their backs and attaching their faces to it.  thank you, gentlemen, for being so brave!  thank you for shining a light on this issue that needs to be discussed openly and honestly across gender lines and boundaries.