I am not in his arms

I'm not under his hands

I'm not in his bed 

I'm not in this body

This isn't happening - to me

Somehow when I withdrew 

she also lost her voice.

Her movement taken too

She was left with no choice.

Was it I, with my cowardice

or his cruelty

that stole these things from she?

Taking flight on broken wings

I perch myself up high

Looking down with pity

At the girl frozen there.

She is still and she is silent.

Playing dead,

her essence absent,

waiting out the attack.

Once he's had his fill

it draws to a close

I know soon I'll return

but I don't want to go back

I don't want to be that girl.