I want brass knuckles
to sport between back allies and gleam in the street light
a neon sign that says all boogie monsters beware
I want weapons to flash in the sight of men
while they try to peek up my skirt.
Let all boys know I'll shoot a pistol
before letting them near my ***** line.
Do all the things action movies told me to
in order to stay alive.
But my first abuser wasn't a shadow in the alley,
or a bruised and sweating testosterone filled brute.

She was a tiny, silly bird
that lit up a room with the colour of her feathers,
And a bubbling laughter like morning song.
She was a little girl
a damsel in distress
you'd want to cup your fingers around
to shield and protect.

But one night,
her songs spilled over her lips,
distorted through ***** filled breath.
Her thin limbs became persistent and demanding
in the face of an electrified buzz.
She was presented to me like a flower.

But when the truth came to her the next day
And it was forced into her mind
The petals didn't unfurl
The curled inward and shut
any intimate details snapped between the teeth
of the Venus flytrap.

Her guilt dissolved
Somehow putting me at fault
How dare I frame the gentle martyr.
What a mistake, that I made,
trying to force the blame
on a little girl, certainly not capable of ****** assault.

Why would anyone believe that
this pretty queer activist would try to **** this boy.
Not listen to the 'no',
in between insistence of her enthusiastic noise.

Why listen to petty rumors of her past
When she's offering you wide blue eyes,
freckles spread across her skin like stars in the sky,
and a giggle inviting you in between pink glossed lips?
Why bother paying attention to how touchy
she gets with alcohol
When shes telling you
you're the fairest of them all.
After all, she is not what the big bad wolf looks like.

She truly believes in her innocence,
She may even bring it up between drinks and activism.
Ignore the people she has pushed the boundaries of,
Ignore more than six people she's pushed under the rug,
The victims at parties who's mouths she's sewn shut.

All the ignorant she has under her thumb,
with all the people in the camp of:
"We like Moira, so she would never -
even though we weren't there,
and you're not the first to come forward."

I learned the hard way
that rapists aren't just sleezy men at bars.
They're girls with sweet smiles
that slip into your friend circle.

But they're also that guy
in the corner of a room at a dorm party.
Inviting you back to his room for a blunt
and doesn't expect you to leave til morning.

People who have respected my pronouns have ****** me over.
People I sleep in beds with.
People who assure their friends they'd never push for consent.
I still see the mutual friends we have on facebook.
Unapologetically smiling back at me from the computer screen.

They don't ask for details
as to keep their conscious clean.
They shy from those assaulter's shame
Because bliss is ignorance.
And because rapists can be hard to hate.

I know that it's tempting to ignore
an invasive touch for a pretty face.
But it feels like a kick to the stomach
hearing my best friend will be
sleeping at her boyfriends place
With my ****** abuser the next room over.

I don't know why people
don't see my story as legitimate
It was that boy's shoulder I first cried on
and now they're soon to be roommates.

Do people wish that badly to believe in fairy tales?
That the bad guys are always obvious and ugly
and easy to despise.
The heroes are always the beautiful ones
who never dare lie?
No, they're the people who make their way
into your lives.
The people you like
The people who get close.
Who hear you cry.

I want to defend myself from those villains
but I don't have the benefit of x-ray vision.
I can't see through their trust-worthy mask.
I don't need knives and guns and broken glass,
Just friends who have my back.

Take no ****.
And be there for me,
Listen and believe
when people speak up
about *** crimes in emergencies.
**** is not a joke.

It isn't a mistake made by accident.
It's a conscious choice to ignore someones voice,
And decide your ****** desires,
are more important than someone's ****** autonomy.

Twice now I've been violated
By supposed friends trying to take my off my clothes,
and not listening to my 'no's.
Twice now I've seen people stand by them
and try to silence the truth,
Cover up all the abuse,
but make no excuse:

There's a wolf amongst your flock
A thorny rose in your garden.
And uprooting me for dealing with that *****
Instead of nipping that problem in the bud
Is not going to keep you safe from harm.
It may put your mind at ease
But only temporarily.
It does no good just to silence the alarm.