J - Jaanvi

Legs spreadeagled, hands tied They violate my body with each thrust they makeMy tears and snot fall onto my face The sack over my head makes me thankful That I don't have to see their faces 
In between I black out and this is preferableThough when I gain consciousness It is a burning fire that I feel in between my legsMy body tattered, my soul bruised Death would be a warm welcome if it came knocking
But no, they are not done with me One by one they take their turnsMutilating, degrading me bit by bit I give up screaming after a while My cries only seem to add to their pleasure 
Left to their mercy, they relish the power they have On me and my body; whimpering cries I soil my clothes and my body is filled with grit and bloodTheirs or mine?I close my eyes and think of happier times 
A bickering sister, a loving father, a warm mother Seemingly so detached now The names may change But my story remains the same Tell me, is it foolish of me to think there is hope for me at all?
P.S. I just finished reading this and I'm beyond disturbed still. May the faceless and nameless Jaanvis in our life get justice.