She is someone…

Sometimes my prayers go up in the form of tears,And to me that's a privilege because somewhere out there, a million prayers go up in the form of blood and rape wounds... I ponder on the man privilege that I have been born into; how I can walk on the streets of the rape capital…

He hit me…

He hit me again...He claims to love me but never seems to show it. His words have no depth or meaning but i keep returning to his arms. I don't know what love is, I have never known a man that said it and showed it. I grew up without my dad, but I know…