Arts & Culture


by Magella Cantara

(Content warning: this may be upsetting for readers who have experienced sexual assault.)

His eyes are black

And starved 

Hands pinning me

On a soft hotel pillow

Where he was 

The opposite 

His lips maul 


I’m sinking deeper

Into this mattress

I cannot move

His grip of iron roots

Has me naked as frostbite 

In my throat 

adrenaline has caught now

I’m speechless

He’s pounding me 

Like an ax to an oak tree

I close my eyes count to 10 and imagine 

My last love 

How gentle he was how my waist 

Was teased with each touch he made 

How careful he was to take care of me 

How we laughed how kissing him was kind of fun

Making me want to go back for more 

unlike this stranger I didn’t even know

He devoured me with teeth that never smiled 

So I picture my last love’s smile to pass the time

To somehow make this okay for 

My last love was nowhere near this rough and yet nowhere to be found

This stranger is now full 

His eyes no longer starved 

So I guess that is that

it’s Over now

He was in for what he wanted 

Collecting all the good in me

Just so he could survive himself

The only thing he forgot to

Take was “no”.

Screen Shot 2019-11-11 at 3.38.08 PM.png

Illustration by Morgan Dyer


Categories: Arts & Culture

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