m3-dusa

[m3-dusa]

The more I want sex, the less I need it.

[m3-dusa]

𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢

[m3-dusa]

[m3-dusa]

I am drenching in guilt so it's acceptable.

[m3-dusa]

A sadness lingers & I love you more.

[m3-dusa]

Going back to school every night is very refreshing but it's becoming scary now.

[m3-dusa]

I am so proud of myself.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, and today is the last day of the month. When I was in college, I was raped in an abusive relationship in 2013 and 2014. I wrote a poetry book, The No You Never Listened To, a year later to process the resulting grief. The morning of publication day - back in 2015 - my rapist's friend messaged me to accuse me of "profiting off of something that had never happened." After that day, I didn't read any poems from "The No You Never Listened To" because I felt ashamed, as if I had done something wrong.

Until tonight. At a local Take Back the Night event, which is a nationally and internationally-recognized day involving marches, rallies, and protests against sexual violence, I read aloud two poems from The No You Never Listened To to the crowd, consisting of anti-sexual violence agencies, other survivors, and allies, and shared part of my story. Just a few yards away, where we marched at the conclusion of the event, was the nation's first permanent memorial to survivors of sexual violence, a stunning mosaic panel art installation near the river.

10 years later, I finally took back my book.

Fuck my rapist, and fuck his friends. Fuck his protectors. I have a right not only to write, but to speak.

[m3-dusa]

Searching for memories that aren’t there, this heart of mine Closes itself up, languishes like an old moldy box of trinkets And then there are these sunken cheeks, these cracked lips- Bitterness bred in cruelty comes rushing out in silence…

I’ve grown accustomed to it all, and have leaned to bear it But sometimes any degree of loneliness can bring you down And while I cannot know for sure, sometimes it seems as if These tears are no longer tears for having loved someone…

- Nakahara Chūya, “Poem of the Sheep” from Poems of the Goat

[m3-dusa]

Scoundrels like Naoji simply don’t die. The ones who die are always the gentle, sweet, and beautiful people. Naoji wouldn’t die even if you clubbed him with a stick.

Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun

[m3-dusa]

Humans forgot while I was remembering their Birthdays.

[m3-dusa]

hands 🖤

[m3-dusa]

She kept her problems to herself. Others considered her strong and independent. They did not perceive that she was as vulnerable as a spider’s web. Touch it, and it disintegrates.

Higuchi Ichiyō, “Troubled Waters” from In the Shade of Spring Leaves

[m3-dusa]

I don't believe in Karma but wtf is this shit.

[m3-dusa]

While calling them off, got totally shut down.

[m3-dusa]

So, what I feel is I always choose the wrong people.

[m3-dusa]

Damnnn, I hate sleepless nights & now the last light is gone too.

[m3-dusa]

So this is how being crushed feel like...

Ahh, I am loving it with hate.