Something wicked came and went.
Left its calling card, bloody and bent.
From sickening shadows it came to lay,
Uncoiled within you, from which it sprayed.
The smell was that of rotted flesh,
And violent pus, with hatred meshed.
Into your purity it came and went,
Spewing a vile and evil scent.
Even after the scars healed from it,
And the Light purified, what he had shit
A distant smell, carried upon the wind,
Could rip apart the wound again~
*This poem speaks to how the smells that accompany sexual violence, are embedded in the memory.