(my Struggle) Poem by Samara Cromwell

Fear shots through my vein,
As all my efforts went in vain.
Adrenaline coursing at its speed,
No way to escape indeed.

Chilly breathe tracing my skin,
Ice cold knife piercing in.
Rough hands exploring my bag of bones,
As if playing the quest for throne.

Peeling my covers one by one,
Pulverized my walls turn by turn.
Hair hitched high, made me scream,
Hot lips that stifle them, haunts my dream.

All blood drained out my body,
Bruises and cuts forming in melody.
Hands tied tight behind me,
Crushing weight above feels heavy.

Legs trapped beneath another pair,
All my kick-boxing doesn't seem fair.
Finger-sized men wandering my navel,
Despite my resistance, up they travel.

As still as water I laid there,
Processing what's happening in the may-fare?
Tug on waistband bring me back,
Curse the luck which I definitely lack.

Seconds and minutes, passed and passed,
None of my struggles seems to last.
Taking my chance, hit hard as I can,
Crimson fluid ran down my hand.

Faster than light I ran from there,
Locked myself with utter care.
Pools of tears, burst out,
Waiting for exhaustion to black me out.

Knock on the door made me gasp,
Lingering touch hurts like sting of wasp.
Hours and hours, I cried for long,
Listening to the beautiful silent song.

Collecting myself, out I come,
Finding no one, I breathe some.
Assembling the pieces left of my dignity,
I put them back, rearranging on me.

I sat in corner, finding myself all alone,
No bosom buddy to console other than my phone.
At last, guilt and regret formed within,
After all, I was the one who let him in?