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This is Rape



There are many things that rape is not. Rape is not sex, rape is not one and done, rape is not purely physical. Rape is what cripples strong minds. If you could see inside me I could tell you what rape is. If you could see the structures that once supported me. If you could see the crossbeams and pillars that held me together. Pretend they are there and I can tell you what rape it. Rape is removing those structures. Whether it is all at once or one by one. So that your shell goes on, unaware that it is fragile where once it was strong. Your shell can go on and present the same face to the rest of the world. No one knows that cracks are beginning to spiderweb from the weight of just being you. Voices get caught inside and echo about the lonely halls. Voices that belittle, voices that doubt, voices that fear the past. You can go on after rape, for a time, powered by routine. Ignorance is the key, ignorance of how thin the shell is becoming. Those voices inside get blown about, slowly eroding the shell from within.

Until one day you shatter.

Like a building being demolished, everything comes down at once. And you let it. You let it all sit where it fell. A pile of everything that once was you. It stays there to gather dust because you have forgotten that maybe it could be different. Perhaps that is just how you were always meant to be. Broken. 

Until one day Love comes along and dusts off the pieces. He gets cut by the shards but he keeps going and he loves what he sees. Not something broken, in need of help to become worthwhile, but something that is worthwhile now. A beautiful mess that doesn't need to pretend to be whole to deserve love. And through that love some of the pieces come back together. Now maybe you have half a face, an arm, your right hip. Through love those pieces are melded back together. Other pieces are set in place, they are not fused and they don't seem to fit quite right yet, some grind against one another and you still feel a little out of sync with the world. But you are functional. 

Other pieces are lost. Some can be found and some, perhaps, are gone forever. 

But eventually a pillar is erected once more. Something strong and stable inside yourself to lean the pieces on. To help keep your shell upright. 

That is rape. 


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