Fascists Love Their Country Like

content warning: sexual assault, other violence

I don't usually post poems I write to my blog, but this poem is different because I thought it might be useful for activism.  Please feel free to share, written by Laura-Marie River Victor Peace.

Fascists Love Their Country Like Rapists Love Their Victims

by Laura-Marie River Victor Peace

Confused at first.
Trusting, lonely, vulnerable.
Accustomed to abuse.
Desperate, exhausted,
under-employed, in need of housing.
In need of drugs.
With multiple diagnoses.
With a broken heart.
Not in their right mind.
Hungry--any kind of hungry.
Cornered, sad,
without hope, 

sleep deprived.
Isolated--can't even remember
what kindness felt like.
Young or just inexperienced
with this particular
disabling tactic.
Tired of waiting.
Focusing on
the wrong problems.
Distracted enough not to notice
how bad behavior creeps
deeper into violence.
Confused by misguided love,
then scared,
then scared to leave.
Not listening to what
every person who loves them
is warning.
Not able to call
the help number--
unable to use a phone.
Afraid to go out.
Afraid to protest.
Isolated, sick,
broken in multiple ways.
Impressed by ridiculous performances.
Stunned enough to continue.
Without language.
Tricked into stuffing their power
under the bed,
and believing they have none.
No longer verbal.
Incapable of fighting back.
Not understanding their own worth.
Not realizing
it's going to keep happening
until somebody is dead.
Lured into complacency,
lost in a forest of pain,
no longer trusting
their own bodily instincts.
Flooded with contradictory information,
having no one to believe.
Broken beforehand.
Starving, convinced
there is no alternative,
invisible, no longer screaming,
already destroyed.