I’ve been trying to heal on my own,
trying to heal from the night you forced yourself into me.
The night I turned on myself,
lost who I was.
My body, a foreign and distant being.
She wasn’t mine anymore, you had ripped her from my grasp,
refusing to let go.
As much as I try, I’ll never have her fully back.

I'd rather live a lifetime alone,
because being a woman is so vulnerable.
We fragile flowers with beautiful petals
that everyone wants to pluck
it doesn't matter what the flower says
if their mind is already made up.
I could never trust another man
and god knows, I don't want to.
When all they've ever done is take from me
but for some reason, never you.
You took me by the hand
and asked me if it was okay,
you put me in the light
and for the first time I felt safe.
But, I did what I do best,
I went and I pushed you away,
so I'd rather live a lifetime alone.
because I can't trust a predator as prey.

The first time it happened I was 5
I was lured by candy as children are
All I can remember is hands and pain
And being told to not remember
And I when I speak on it
All I can hear is familial silence
And stares that tell me to not speak up at all
When CPS came knocking on the door
I covered for him.
My mom asked me why
Why I didn’t tell her all these years
My response was simple:
I did the first time it happened
It continued still, you were drunk after all
I wasn’t the first he did it to
And I’m sure I wasn’t the last
It’s weird to tell people to not joke about ******
It’s weird to tell people my first experience was when I was five
It’s weird to tell people I remember
It’s weird to pretend I don’t

The second time it happened I was 15
With my first ever boyfriend
I was out cold, and he did as he did
I don’t remember much, but this
He’s checked my pulse and he bragged
For months I didn’t realize what happened
I could not register what it was
I told my mom, I could see she blamed me
I could see trust wane in her rise
I could tell she didn’t see it how it hurt me
I was 15 and asleep
He was 16 and awake
And somehow I blame myself
It’s weird to tell people I still love him
It’s weird to tell people I forgave
It’s weird having to tell people it wasn’t my fault
And it’s weird losing friends over it

Third time it was with my boyfriend again
I wasn’t asleep I wasn’t a child
I was scared
He held me still
I said no but he didn’t know I was serious
Tears slipped out of my eyes
I froze in terror
I cried for hours afterwards
I knew what it was, he knew what it was
I blame myself.
I told him no.
No. No. No.
Now I flinch when someone touches the back of my head
I am wounded
It’s weird to tell people it happened again
It’s weird I still love him after all of it
It’s weird to forgive again
It’s weird

They were hundreds of times between
Of men touching what they weren’t supposed to
Of I’m making comments about me
Coercing me
Making me a part of their perversions
Of believing flirting is ticket for their ****** harassment
Of making me instinctively hate men.
Victim blaming
Degrading
Sexualizing
I am yet a woman
It’s weird to not be a woman
It’s weird to be a talking point
It’s weird to be silenced
It’s weird.

i was young and empty
on my knees to please god
and he held me down,
finding pleasure in watching me drown

I put a mask on,
I play the toughest of all,
“Made of steel”, I repeat
But when in action, I freeze
My body freezes,
My brain freezes,
Motionless, I stare
Into thin air,
Waiting for this moment to be over,
Because i no longer have the power


-I have never had it in the first place.

I reached my hand out to you
And I was terrified
You could see it in my eyes
“You’re done with me”
No I say, I’m just afraid


Afraid of what?
You are bewildered
I take a pause and say
Your desire for me.

Because what men desire
They take.

Walking home
at twilight:

the gentle breeze

the lavender sky

the wave goodbye
before the sun
closes its eyes

and the lingering disquiet
of knowing
your all alone
for the next several blocks