****
isn't always dark alleys
and whistles
and pepper spray.
It isn't always
a stranger,
they don't always
look dangerous.
Whether it is
your boyfriend
or your teacher
or your uncle,
they are no longer on your side.
This is your attacker.
Do not be silent.
Do not be afraid to make a scene.
Whether it is a movie theatre
or a street corner
or your bedroom,
yell,
scream,
curse,
bite,
spit,
let no resonate from your lungs
so they cannot say they didn't hear you.
Send him home,
tell your parents,
tell your friends,
tell the police.
****
is not always
drunk men outside bars
or keys clenched between white knuckles.
Sometimes **** is silent.
Do not be silenced.

I never understood
How someone could wake up one morning
To find that the fire inside their heart
Has died out
Out of nowhere
Turned to dust
I never understood
How someone could wake up one morning
And just stop caring
You did
With such ease
And I still don't understand
How.

I speak with apology in my voice
Almost every word I say is followed by sorry
And my conversations are often riddled with insecurity
I do not mean remorse
But I was bred from repentance
Mother told me be cautious of my speech
Taught me that speaking my mind
Is not lady like
That profanity
Is not feminine
I learned to replace my ***** with apologies
Muted my voice with shame
Always reluctant to say how I feel
Afraid to withhold
I was told
That the worst word in the english language is no
Engrained this belief so deeply into muscle memory,
That when he took without permission
Refusal didn't even cross my mind
The word no
Never made it through my vocal chords
And out past my lips
When I blamed myself afterwards
It felt more warranted
Than actually accepting the reality
That this
Was not right
I somehow managed though
To place the fault on myself
For his taking
Of what is rightfully mine
I placed the fault on myself
Not for my inability to decline
But for feeling like this was what I deserved
I was raised
How every young girl always has been
In quiet tones and hushed voices
In keeping secrets and asking for forgiveness
I was taught how to please a man
But was barely even familiar with my own anatomy
Knew how to reach male *******
But not my goals
I was taught that women
Are here to satisfy
And that my body
Was made to satisfy
A present to be saved and someday gifted
That pure is synonymous with wanted
That my value was only to be determined
By the number of times I have slept in a bed other than my own
I was raised thinking
That all I could ever be was leftover ash
Nobody ever told me
That I am made of fire
Capable of burning at the touch
I grew up believing
That I was nothing more than a burnt out star
Dust to be picked up and reassembled by whatever man chooses to fix me
I was told
That I should call myself lucky for the saviour
And if I get the chance
I sure as hell better take it
I was trained to believe
That being with someone
Meant that *** is always wanted
I learned how to speak guilt before I learned the word consent
And I am just now learning
That all of this
Is mistake
What we were taught
Is mistake
But I am not a mistake
And there is no room for sorry to follow every question I pose
There are far too many words to get out
And not enough time
For silencing
I have realized
That I
Am meant to be here
And there is no apology
Needed.

I wonder
If you still read my writing
From wherever you are
Secretly hoping
That you're still the center of it
I know
You would much rather do that
Than actually talk to me
Would much rather read my words
Than hear my voice
After all
My name looks much better in poetry
Than it tastes in your mouth
And promises are easier to break
When you don't keep them close
I wonder
If you still think of me
Every night before you sleep
I wonder
If you know
That you're the reason I don't
My insomnia is too hopeful
And memory refuses to let me forget
I wonder
If you think of me
When you're holding her
If you long to know what I feel like
While you touch her
Does she know
That I almost slip off your tongue
Every time you open your mouth to speak
You kiss with confused lips
They are not sure if this
Is what you truly want
You will say her name loud enough
To drown out mine
Practice repeating I love you
Until you can say it with shut eyes
I wonder
If you see me when you close them
I wonder
If I am still in your ear
From conversation miles away
Maybe it was the bad connection
That made me want more
But you
You are still in my head
I planted you too deep and
Now I don't know how to dig you out
Rooted you in the trust I never knew
Pretended like it was something
I was used to having
I could have buried myself in it
But there is none left
And I am trying to figure out
How you are still growing without it
Still molding into optimism in my mind
I want to believe you'll come back for me
I know
That you stopped calling
For a reason
But a part of me is still believing
That it's only temporary
The only permanent thing you gave me
Was false intention
That I will use to twist into material
Into something I will write with
And I will continue to write
I can only wonder
If you
Will keep reading.

It's not my fault,
what I have that I deal with,
It's not my fault,
that I can't do anything right.
It's not my fault,
they give me a hard time.
But it will only be my own fault
when I shrink my temper.
I take the blame after every outburst.
What can I say?
Nobody wants anger
and I make it worse.
For everyone
and then me.

The odds of being struck by lightning
Are one in 3,000
I watched from a window
As 13 people that were not me
Got struck by it
Just a few feet away
From where I was standing
And I am left thinking
About how that could have so easily
Been me
Out of curiosity
I looked up odds in a lifetime
I wanted to know
How often things happen
What came up
Consisted only of odds of dying
And I laughed
Thinking
About all of the other odds
That were more important than death
That were more interesting
Than freak accidents
And demise
How about the odds of meeting someone
With the same exact name
Or the odds
Of loving someone who loves the same stuff
As you do
The odds
Of throwing a perfect game in baseball
Are one in 18,192
The odds of finding your soulmate
Are one in 10,000
And more people are concerned
Of getting bit by a shark than finding love
The chances of that happening
Are one in 11.5 million
Sharks are not the enemy
We are
If you ask me
I would say
I'd much rather focus
On the rare positives
There are good things that happen daily
That happen unexpectedly
It is better to hope for those
Than worry about ones unlikely
You can measure the past
All you want
Give it numbers
And try predict future
But one thing you cannot do
Is measure life.