The Rape of Lucretzia


I live in dishonour, even spurned by death
I can’t cry Lucretzia,  of virtue I’m bereft
And though they call me free and say I live with choice
I can never blot out that inner ancient voice

The one that speaks through stories, written in my veins
The one that sings in silence, binds my soul in chains
Turns the unseen compass spinning in my heart
Because it lives inside me, from it I can’t part

Lucretzia valued chastity stronger than her life
Without it she was worthless, victim to the knife
A suicide like hers goes down in history
Praised beyond compare for all of us to see

I’m sure I know the pain, that gives a girl the strength
To slide a blade in smooth, no matter what its length
To twist it with her hate and terrorise her flesh
To watch the blood pour out and kiss the lips of death

I’ve hands upon my body I never wanted there
I feel them touch me daily, I have to grin and bear
I’m marked in fingerprints, they burn like firey brands
I lie awake at night, submitting to demands

But should I try to silence him, or dare to cut him out
I’m treated for hysteria, they hold me down and shout
And if I try to show them the fingerprints that bleed
They don’ t let me expose them to protect my modesty

And in a twisted way, we’re still in ancient Rome
I wait for help in casualty and bleed a crimson tome
The triage nurse won’t check my wounds, because they’re on my thigh
He puts my life in danger to protect me from his eyes

I’m left to bleed for hours wishing I would die
Agony is pulsing loud, inches deep and wide
They finally call me in and look at what I’ve done
Sew me up half heartedly, and quickly send me home

I’m female more than human, a patient last I guess
I’m forced to be a woman first, a being made of sex
Im othered for my difference, for whats between my thighs
But unlike poor Lucretzia, I’m forced to stay alive


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