the first time
she cried
drops of salt poured through her eyes
but he didnt care
he was enjoying himself
but she was begging
but not the way he thought
after a while
she stopped
wasting her fluids
and let it happen
after about the 100th time
she decided it was fine
the pain had dulled
the first time it felt like fingernails scraping her insides dry
but now she was blunt like the knife in her kitchen
the blood running down her legs had dried
and it smelled of iron
he smelled of iron
when she had
the opening of a wound
she thought of him
and maybe thats why
she was to always think of the man who stole from her
the man who had taken her humanity
now the scraping had turned into carressing
as she felt her rounded stomach
of the human growing inside her
and she would never forget
the smell of iron
and the dried blood on her thighs
