I cannot remember ever having a visual memory. This has made seeing the abuse I lived through prostitution.
The last thing I remember seeing in my mind-eye was the hard-core porn.
Seeing that murdered my visual imagination.
Before I read books and pictured them. I would see Narnia, imagine Treasure Island.
Before I could dream.
I could rest when I shut my eyes.
Porn made my mind close down. It did not want to know.
It place a void instead of visual imagination. That void made me know the terror.
All I know is gut tells about the violence I lived. I feel the fear, I know the terror and I breathe the grief in every cell of my body.
Still I see nothing in my mind’s eye.
All I know to do is to say in detail how my body was remember.
I feel remembering the violence I lived through is like trying to grab water.
When I remember my stepdad, I see his face. I know his name. I feel his breath on me.
He is solid.
This I do not have with the rapes in my teens and twenties.
I want to have those men named and shamed. I want them to rot in prison.
I want more than anything to see them as individuals so I can them as the man that rape me – not a general john.
It rots me inside that I cannot see their faces. It all melts into one.
I see no face. I see a void.
I lived with years of extreme sexual violence. This my mind cannot handle.
I remember times of violence. I do not know my age. It all melts in to one.
Many acts of violence were repeated over and over. This all melts into one.
It fall into the void.
This void can paralyses me.
It make me know I will never have justice for all that sexual torture.
All I know to do is work to get justice for others.