The hard pressure of the wall against your back
Hands pressed to his dark chest,
Nails digging deep
With the feel of his warm breath against your delicate neck.
Whimpering softly as you pull your face away
Eyes closed,
With soft warm tears trailing black lines
Down pale yet stinging flesh.
A small cry from your lips, begging
With the heat of his hand wrapped around your throat,
Pressing you harder to the wall, as you gasp
Fingers gripping, tearing the fine shirt.
Your hands push at his chest
That sinister, grating voice in your ear,
As you plead for your release, for it to stop
"You know you want it, bitch"
His heavy hand wrapped through your hair
Pulling you from the wall and back, hard,
To the floor, his body following yours as he holds you with his knees
The painful sting as his hand hits your cheek, turning your face.
His tongue on your neck, closing your eyes as you gasp in pain,
The sweet taste of blood on your lips,
You look through the window, through tear stained eyes and wish
While he twists your face to look to him.
Those maddening eyes, the tormenting darkness
As he bears deep to your soul, knowing,
And you struggle, hard, pushing at him
While another resounding slap echoes around the room.
Just another blood spot on the floor.
...
And still you refuse to scream.
copyright © Tracey Cobb
