Survivor Rebecca Mott
Blondie, my lust object, my dreams that crashes through many years of nightmares.
I would imagine Debbie Harry smashing down punters, blowing up the flats where torture was my norm, killing those who made money out of my hell.
I imagine hard in order not to see/know/feel my reality.
I needed Debbie Harry to rescue me.
Instead I carry her fierceness inside, hidden from punters, hidden from sex trade profiteers.
I played Blondie loudly as I was raped, played Blondie over crashed over words of hate, words making me dead.
I played Blondie loudly as I was moved from flat to sex club to hotel rooms to toilets to back-alley to my own room to under a subway.
I played Blondie loudly as students, politicians, artists, businessmen raped me.
I played Blondie as a United Nations of men raped and tortured.
I played Blondie as I was gang-raped, as I…
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