Skip to main content

The Boy Who Was Raped and Raped (Louis Toliver Jr- Swartz, LA)

     The boy held onto the door of the closet tightly. The monster was trying to get to him, but even though he was crying and felt as if the monster was stronger than him, the boy held the doorknob with all his might. He could hear the snarls of the monster. . . he had attacked him many times before. Though the boy had tried to tell his parentshis friends— he could only do so through his actions, not his words, because the monster threatened to kill him and his family if he ever told.

     The boy was losing his grip on the doorknob as his hands began sweating in fear. His small hands finally lost grip and the door flung open. The boy closed his eyes. He took it. He had to take it. Because as much as he wanted to tell others about what was happening to him, he felt he had to take it. . . the monsters touch. He had to protect his friends and family. He didn't want them to be killed. He didn't want to be killed.

     So, he took it. Every humiliating touch…the abuse…the force. When the boy woke up, he was laying in tears, blood, and fear. It was his mother who found him. . . his father was nowhere in sight. The boy could still feel the monster’s presence. His mother picked him and carried him upstairs and they never spoke about it. . . his mother covered his bruises and his father ignored them.

And so, the monster kept coming and coming and coming back. . .



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This Little White Boy Who Wanted Some Nigger In Him (James Leland Ludeau III - Lafayette, LA)

Grew up on a plantation
Removed
Secluded from the world
I knew classes but didn’t understand race
Because what raced through my veins wasn’t something of which I could ever speak
My father could fuck the slave girls
But I couldn’t touch the men
It filled me with resentment
Fueled my resentment with lust
Until it was too much to take
It was a small contained community
White as the cotton in the fields
Only dark around the edges where the black men lived
Ploughing the fields
I’d imagine them ploughing me
Sinewy
Glistening with sweat as the sun bathed their shoulders
The sweat running down until it pooled around the waistband of their thin cotton pants
Their skin
Black, almost indigo, like night
Some like coffee with milk in it
Cafe au lait
I could smell their musk
Watched as their muscly bodies worked
I yearned
Burned
This little white boy who wanted some nigger in him
To fall beneath the weight of one
As he heaved
As he forced his throbbing cock into my crevice
I longed for even the pa…

"I Love You" is Enough (Louis Toliver Jr)

Please don’t stress I see what you do all year Everyday you show me Through your actions How much you care for me But please don’t stress It’s not money or possessions That make me give my life to you It’s the moments that are small When people don’t care to look That you show your love most So don’t stress to demonstrate What you already know you do Just say “I love you” and… My underwear will come off for you

God Will Cry (Louis Toliver Jr - Swartz, LA)

This is your soul trying to connect to you for last the time. We have come to the final crossroad in our life. This is the end. These are our last earthly breaths.
From this abuse of yourself, we will both die. You will be a rotting corpse. I will fade away into Darkness. People may mourn your death, at first, but you will be forgotten, while I am left here molested by the hands of Hell.
God will cry, “My child didn’t fulfill her purpose.”
I’m begging you; don’t do this. It has been a slow ride, a slow descent to suicide.