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about-me/writing/the-girl
2026-04-08 14:33:28 +02:00

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the girl
by Ze'ev Schurmann
18 March 2021
> Trigger Warning: This poem covers themes that may be upsetting to most people, such as rape and suicide. Do not read if you may be negatively impacted by this poem.
You said I was beautiful,
You told me I was nice,
But I had no idea
That I was rolling dice.
I thought you were decent,
How you spoke with my friends,
But I never would have imagined
What you really did intend.
I enjoyed your company,
I shone with delight,
If only I had known
The ending of that night.
You asked me back to your place,
When they called last round,
A few drinks to watch the sunrise,
Amazing it did sound.
And we sat there on your deck,
And watched the sky turn blue,
As you fed me drinks,
Your intentions were not true.
And then you made it clear,
What it was you did want,
To tear off my skirt,
And do your “manly” stunt.
You told me I asked for it,
But that was not true,
I only wanted to relax,
And watch the sun with you.
You blamed it on my clothes,
And said it's what I want,
But to be honest,
You're just a fucking cunt.
You took away my innocence,
And still you wanted more,
And you didn't care,
You called me a dirty whore.
You hurt me that morning,
For weeks I did bleed,
And then I was pregnant,
With your awful seed.
I had to go to the clinic,
And kill an unborn light,
My soul was crushed that day,
Did I do what's right?
Now I don't trust men,
No matter who they are,
I see them all as evil,
I keep them well afar.
You broke my soul that day,
You never cared for me,
And now I suffer in silence,
Happy I cannot be.
So now I stand here,
On my wooden stool,
How I feel useless,
For ever trusting you.
I place the rope around my neck,
So my suffering can stop,
For all the pain you caused me,
I kick the stool and drop.