It’s funny how life is
How my biggest fear in life—no, it didn’t happen to me
It touched my best friend instead.

He did something unspeakable
She is broken now
And all I am filled with is unquenchable
Undeniable
Rage.

I want to tear him limb from limb
I want to beat him black and blue
Make his face unrecognizable
Make him regret the things he did to her.
Make him rue the day he made his greatest mistake.

You see, I’m not just a girl.
Beneath all of the soft lines and playful words,
I am a hurricane.
When it comes to her, I will give no mercy.
She is before anyone else in this world.
Like the Hulk, I am filled with rage.

I want to rip and tear
I want to cause him pain
For she has been broken
And I want to stop her hurt.
After all of my promises that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,
There was nothing I could do.

Maybe that’s where my rage originates.
I wasn’t there when she needed me.
Well, darling, I’m coming.
And I carry the rage of woman behind me.

hair curled
mascara clumped beyond belief
deep brown eyes practically closing
turquoise polo
horse in the corner
fake crystalline necklace
dark blue knee skirt
***** white tights
too big flats

the cusp of eleven years old
going to her first concert
philip philips
austin mahone
owl city
kissmas bash

dancing
singing
crowded souls

bladder filling up
desperately searching
for relief
wandering aimlessly
alone

relief at last
walking back
pep in her step
alone

hands grip her sides
big hands
looking up
burly bear
stranger

"shush,
little one,"
bear whispers,
"it's alright."

so she does
confusion
spreads through her

eleven years old
exposed
shattered
never the same

big bear
got away
completely okay
while
goldilocks
breaking down
forever

There is a rot within my bones,
an infection forcibly injected,
a spread of sludge whose origins
are drenched in impunity.

I did not know I was whole
until my wholeness was preyed upon;
did not know I was a country
until unwillingly colonized.
I did not know what silence meant
until it became obligation over option;
did not know I could be spoken for
by someone who’s asked me no questions.

I never questioned who I was
until others proved what they are not

and now there is a rot in my bones,
irreversible, unhealable, all encompassing.
I am defined by my rot,
named by an unspeakable sludge,
unseen until the mirror cracks,
until I am no longer the only one looking back

palms to my face. shame in my eyes. i can feel my heart trying to break itself free. i wonder if you hear it too. a caged animal begging to be rescued and freed. i slowly open my legs for you to enter. so slow i begin to feel the regret. it hit me like a runaway train. you sensed it too. you had to have sensed it. you ripped open my legs. and instead of entering right away. you sat there and told me how beautiful i am. as if i needed them to be sure this was right. only they assured me this wasn't what i wanted. but before the words could leave my lips. you forced your fingers deep within and smiled with satisfaction. as if to say, i'm moist enough to want you, so there's obviously no regret. it's too late to leave. you already started and before i knew it, you were finished. and without a second thought, i dashed to the bathroom to get dressed. then i dashed home like i was being chased and my survival depended on it.

A hungry gaze, dissipated haze. From across the room his hunger stays.

Tears glisten yet no one listens. Madness and depression her brain descends.

Yet she has no choice...she's one of the boys. Get a doctorate, make something of yourself, stop playing with your broken toys...either way you'll be damed to hell..

She lied, they say. Made it all up, they say. He cries his reputation is ruined, I mean he never laid a hand on you anyway...Haven't you ever done something stupid when you're drunk?

Appointed to the highest hall, I guess some people are untouchable after all...

Ah...what it is to be white and male in America..

Land of the free so long as you've paid the fee,
SIT DOWN....Don't you know girls are to be seen not heard?

So, the first time she speaks her mind, the scales of justice pull her taught from behind, all too similar to the predicament she'd find herself in...all those nights ago....

This is the story of a woman who lost it all, trying to save us from the infamous Kavanaugh.

I wonder how many Bretts do you know? How many more have we yet to meet?

The unkindness was done to us, but now we are the unkindness.
We are people turned victim turned survivor turned raven,
Grouped together to fight the evil we were violated with.

We are creatures of pain, and we are creatures of protection.
We are creatures of mourning, and we are creatures of empathy.
We are creatures of misery, and we are creatures of wisdom.

And we will croak, caw, warble, and scream
Just so we know we are not alone.

[April is ****** Assault Awareness Month.]

“****** Assault Awareness Month” is *******.

For 30 days you’ll wear a teal ribbon and hold “We Believe Survivors” signs.

But
Should I thank you for 30 days of ally-ship?
No.
Did you believe me on March 31st?
No.
Will you believe me on May 1st?
No.

30 days.
You’ll scream
ALLY ALLY ALLY
Believe survivors
ALLY ALLY ALLY
Support Survivors
ALLY ALLY ALLY
Hold rapists accountable.
ALLY
Bull. ****.

Go ahead and pretend ****** assault only happens in April.
Throw out your teal ribbons on May 1st
because it’s not ****** Assault Awareness Month anymore.
You don’t have to care anymore.

But I do.
What my rapists did is something I live with
335 more days
than you’ll care about an issue.

You don’t realize the ribbons you pin your bags and shirts are
smaller
than the
bruises he left on my thighs
But
you don’t care what one survivors thinks of you
so long as the world knows that
for 30 days, you wore a teal ribbon

Your message of ally-ship
30 days a year
doesn’t erase
your hypocrisy the other
335 days.

The Polite Victim
When I tell someone I’m a **** survivor
They wanna know how long ago it happened
Like the trauma or the pain is like some kind of sidewalk paint on the outside of our bodies
that after time gets washed away by our own tears
Or maybe the rain
When I respond that I was five
They say “ no, I mean, you know, the last time”
Even though they don't really need to know that's the only trauma right now I'm willing to let go
because these days it's all about how much skin you show
I step below my thirst for the end of ignorance
Satisfy their interests
And choose to be the polite victim
But then they expect me to be willing to try and understand him when I’d rather cut off
Every
limb
Like they expect me to be fine because I've had “all this time” to “get over it”
But just like physical wounds, wounds like these never heal completely
There’s always a scar left behind to reveal
And if you peel back my metaphorical layers
You’ll see that scar  
I understand that
To
most people out there that's all we are
is a body
But I am not a body, I have a body
A body that's meant to protect my soul, a body that he almost stole...from me
But you cannot have a body and be a body at the same time
what a random thought
Have you ever noticed how every slam poet says ‘body’ the same way
Because deep down we all feel the same way
about it
We spit it out like it's some kind of disgusting
Like it betrays us, like the word itself betrays us
But really it doesn't
Not any more than a car does when it slides on black ice
It’s not the car’s fault, it’s the environment its exposed to
And possibly our fault too for not recognizing it’s limits
But I, for once, will not give it that power,
I am done converting my hatred for my body
Into hatred for myself