poem by Meggie Lovins-Kappler

He raped her.
She was thirteen. Fifteen. Seventeen.
It was a stranger. A friend. Her boyfriend.
It traumatized her. Almost killed her.
Made her hate herself. Made everyone hate her.
They blamed her. Her parents. Her friends.
She blamed her.
They tried to help her
but she couldn't
"Just get over it" .

He raped her.
She was two. Four. Six.
It was her mom's boyfriend. Her step-dad. Her father.
She was too little to help herself.
Her mother didn't know. She didn't care. She let him.
It gave her PTSD. Depression.
She cut herself to cope with the pain.
Starved herself to be perfect.
Nothing ever worked.
They weren't paying attention.
Her mom. Father. Sister. Brother found her.
Lifeless.

He raped her.
She was thirty. Forty. Fifty.
It was her husband.
Of eight. Twelve. Twenty years.
He apologized.
Promised he would never,
EVER do it again.
Brought her flowers. Chocolate.
She was wary.
Knew she should leave him.
But she loved him.
He raped her.
Again.
Like they wanted.