I am a rape survivor.
I am the audience to your coldness, your assaults on our bodies, minds and hearts.
I am an abuse survivor.
I am the audience to your treachery, your invasions of our safe spaces, our wellbeing and homes.
I am ‘female’,
The target behind your snipes and your condemnation, the hearts ripping open as we become public sexual vessels.
I am your porcelain dolls, your paper lamps and your fortune telling cards,
The faces of cultures erased and long forgotten, crystallized in caricatures and fading shadows.
I am the talkative one, the silent one, the jokester, the seriousness
The person passing you down the street,
Living in fear of your shadows, your specters, whatever may come at any moment.
I am human.
We are human.
Behind this screen, behind these words.
So then,
what are you?
