my survival skills
suffocate me still
the life i fought for
fights back
each scar is surveilled
tallied to remember your touch
every wound read as a warning sign
with scabs to punctuate my purity
no one comes to my defense
as my palms dip with red
my story is sealed
behind the locked lips
of a girl who understands
that victims are blamed
and screams are framed
as enthusiastic consent
last woman standing
my intellect remains a threat
the audience will demand a recount
until the final girl
is finally dead
