The length of my skirt does not determine my consent.
No means no.
(This write up is mine but not exactly mine. I read a related quote somewhere– which wasn't exactly this but somewhat related– and then I thought of this)
Dont open my eyes Dont move a muscle Pretend to sleep Hope with all my might Just leave me alone I dont want to be touched I dont want to be for your profit I am just a good little girl I am not your slave I am not your toy I want more I want my freedom I can't take this pain inside Are you done yet The blood on the sheets The blood on my legs Remind me what a good little girl I was for you I hate you I hate myself more I want to be strong I want escape I want to tell I never will These secrets This pain This fear I will carry to my grave Like a good little girl
He came, He was shown, He liked, They auctioned, He paid, She cried, He took, A hole to satiate his lust, He used and used and used, Tired, he threw, Even the seeds he bore.
i sit with my legs uncrossing on the toilet seat, 7th period smells of puberty of wasted ambition and scathing regret of everything of whispered secrets and sore thighs, ***** dripping out between your lips into the bowl of tortured angst, of pulling your skin taut and drawing the blade against you over and over, for trusting someone like him of hope that the next day will be better than today (it isn't) of high school.
I like to remember that time that we went to IHOP breakfast for the first time You didnt know but i was really nervous and you started singing bohemian rhapsody and i joined in it made me feel better