I own a good chin to lift
a look that threatens from a distance.
The shield I never thought I’d get in the mail is here,
name written on it and everything.
So I walk out, shield up,
I shiver if I only get a hint of
reminding me of someone
who ****** me with no permission.
Sometimes, I forget the amount of my anger
But, if it bares meaning,
I understand it.
Not only mine, the anger of many women, who
woke up in someone’s bed, and
left there smelling of a body
they didn’t choose to smell of.
Don’t tell me I should’ve said “No.”
Because sometimes the mouth doesn’t listen to the body,
body doesn’t listen to the brain,
the brain is not aware that
six years later you’ll be sobbing with the realization that
you’re afraid of the man you trust most of all
because he produces testosterone.
Six years ago, it happened too fast.
I didn’t say “No.”
He didn’t give me time to do it.
As I was leaving, eyes clenched to my feet
I let him kiss me and say:
“I hope you don’t regret this night.”
That’s what makes me the angriest.
Well, this is pretty personal, as you can see.