The male species will never understand female emotion. 

There was a boy, I didn’t want him until he needed me no more. He adored the crimson streaks along my wrists, and the blue ones on my cheeks. My mind grew enthralled with his. Enthralled with his enthrallment of mine. And then. I found out too late. I found that I was wrong. Moreover that he was wrong. That he was a liar. That he was a big fucking fat fucking LIAR. And I found that he had tied a rope around my neck. And that wherever he walked, I would follow. That when I was too far, the rope would tighten around me. And that I would run out of air. And that I had to grow accustomed to the tightness. I would learn to breathe with no air. And I would. I would do just that. There was a boy, I loved him; I embraced him; he was beautiful, apple cheeks, blue irises, a smile that occupied the whole of his visage; I submit myself as an exhibition; I let him inspect with a flashlight, made sure he knew every crease in my skin; I cried beneath him; he sat by the bathtub while I died. Then he savaged me to pieces. He seized my heart and he peeled back the layers while blood bubbled over the top of it. He reached into my mind and massacred it with his fists. He beat it. And he beat it. And he just kept going. HE KEPT GOING. And he excavated his nails into my skin, and he tore down, with my shredded skin piling up under his nails. He bit at my ankles, tendons snapping back and searing with pain. There was another boy, a friend, held me closely when I was sad, never quite sure why I was sad. He sang songs with me for fun. He even let me nap in his bed! And then! He came in. And he put his heavy body on mine. And his perspiration collected itself into puddles on my face as he let his hands move wherever he pleased. And I lay beneath him. Suffocating under his weight, and crying. HE DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE. And quietly I left the room, and quietly, my whole body fragmented into pieces. And quietly, I whimpered in the bath. And quietly, I scratched at my skin. And quietly I prayed I would be able to lacerate away every fingerprint. There was another boy, another friend, he bought me candies and mailed them to me. He saw me cry and looked away quickly as to ensure I hadn’t noticed his eye. I told him to stop yelling. I told him I was afraid. He told me to calm down. I let him fuck me. I fucked him. I fucked him many times. And I left immediately after each time. As to escape his routine post-coital monologue about himself. He then came up with the most grand of ideas. To gather all the men who have ruined me. To surprise me with them. To seat me next to them. To watch from across the table as my eyes welled.

Today. I screamed. I screamed in the most murderous, shrill, deafening voice. I cried out into the abyss of my car. I sat alone in the driver’s seat. The road began to blur. And I released everything. I screamed the most blood-curdling, awful, hideous, hysterical, agonized, sickening, hopeless, repelling, FEMALE scream. A scream the male species would never know. A woman’s secret, so wildly loud, so unrestrainedly quiet to those who will never know it.