Badass Jane-I tried to protect (I failed)

***Story Poem. Previous Links to poems in order of story.
Raising my weary head.
Wary
beaten
there is no way that I can go on.
I have failed
unable to protect
myself
or Plain Jane.
Would they have listened?
Would they have heard?
The tale of a small child
brutalized
beaten
raped
taken in turn
by those animalistic men.
I am sorry that I failed
Jane dear
tears seeping
dripping from my chin
lips quivering
I cannot go on.
We stand for the Judge’s entrance
I see my chance to go
I leap across
grab the gun
turn to face the crowd.
I knew what was going to happen
I knew it is going to hurt
but I am tired
I need to lay down my head.
Raising the gun
I point at the men
all of whom had drawn.
When shouts were ignored
I am peppered with shots
as I dropped to the floor.
Sept. 7/18
***This is 2nd to last poem in this series. Please read previous posts to fully experience this point of view. 🙂
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Plain Jane-Broken Down

***Continuation of Story poem. Previous poems are in order here:
She did it to me again.
Always
with the leaving me entrails
destruction
things I must clean up.
I am the one pummeled
cold baths
shock therapy
increased drugs
increased watching of the patient
never allowing me a chance
to unfold.
If I am locked like this
drugs
cuffs
complacent
how ever will she reappear?
Until court
when I must answer for bloodshed
for death
that I did not cause
I will be sedated.
Badass Jane
she is writhing on the leash
wanting to come out
to play
to protect
to get her revenge.
Sept. 7/18

Badass Jane-Avenging Angel

This is a story poem. Listed are links to the others in this series:
I feel her struggle
jerking away from his hands
fuck man
can she not lay still?
This is something she has done
so many times before.
I begin to rise
asserting myself
willing her to sleep
for only I will be able to do this….
Jane would surely scream.
Surprised he was
to feel my arms
legs
tighten around
draw him closer.
Eagerly
he settled in
rhythmic
not realizing my disdain.
Hooked his keys
never noticed
so intent on the ravishing of flesh
bloody blade
left in his throat
I know how to make them pay.
Sept. 7/18

Plain Jane-Little Girl Lost

This is a story poem. The links for previous poems are:
His hands on my flesh
stroking
pinching
awakening fear
tears
streaming down my cheeks.
Badass Jane
she whispers in my ear
to remain calm
when the time is right
she will come out
and she will play.
I keep my eyes squeezed shut
repress the memories
overwhelming
suffocating
if she does not come out soon
I am going to be lost.
He fists his hand in my hair
jerking my head back
pressing himself to my barren body
groaning
unaware that death waits in the wings.
My voice catches
no longer can I scream
I am waiting for Badass Jane
to come and rescue me.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash

Badass Jane 3-Vigilant

***This is a story poem. The links below are for the others in order:
Stupid bitch!
Filling herself with angst
with pain
with a sense of self defeat.
Always must I take control?
Awakening
fettered to the bed
I stretch
strain
twist and turn
I will make my get away.
Biding time.
Someone will come.
Someone
weak willed
easy to overcome
who will bend to me
allowing release.
Beneath the paper gown
my body is naked
will need to find some clothes.
My mouth is dry
sandpaper
still under the influence
of the drugs.
Oh
here he comes
the one who likes to play.
Soon my dear
you and me
we shall be free.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Velizar Ivanov on Unsplash

Plain Jane 3-Conscious

***This is the continuation of:
As consciousness is regained
aware I become
that the front of me
is soaked in blood.
All around
lay various men.
Rearing back
horror
I realize
I know all of them.
Gagging
I choke on flesh in my throat
aghast
what have I done?
Was it really me?
Is this the work of Badass Jane?
Was she really this mephistophelian?
Will anyone even believe me?
Shades flit
outside the corner of my eyes
if I turn my head full on
skipping into the background
they fade.
Guns have been drawn
as if I would care
100 men
against my tiny frame.
I lay on my face
gorge rising
voices screaming
sharp prick
cognizance fading away.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Cristian Newman on Unsplash