Opened at Last

Where have we gotten to?
What will it take for you to open up to me?

I watch you there;
you are anxiously
masturbating
as you talk
of your childhood
and the wreckage
of abuse
and dark passings.

It's really
the only way
you can relax
enough to be
totally honest
about the abandonment,
the loss of innocence,
the malice
and wretched self-punishment
you feel you deserve,
unlovable
and so it's degrading
to speak of unless
you are being abused,
but to speak of it openly
you ply yourself open
and do the deed yourself.  

It's humbling
really
how you allow me
to watch you,
and just as you falter
and excuse yourself
and say that you're sorry
and must be a horrible person
and that I must be disgusted
with you,
I reassure you
that who you are
is as it should be
and that if you will
allow yourself
to orgasm
it will be alright
since this is the way
you come to your truth
and can finally say
the truth of your life
that having been raped
you feel guilty
for having enjoyed it
and then feel disgusted
even as you repeat the scene
over and over
the play of your life
and then
in arresting denial
but physical relinquishing,
the words tumble out,
"Thank you,
I needed someone
to finally listen,
and hear what my words mean
and find me
being a person
of worth,
so please don't think
of me
any less
for my process,
I'm hungry
for being alive."

And she sat up
from the mattress
and propped herself up
on a pillow
and we talked for hours
about what had happened
those decades ago.

runningturtle87