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,
and yet
I shiver if I only get a hint of

A scent,
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.

I never knew his last name
But I still remember his face
I still remember
The way he grabbed my neck
And pushed me down
Because he loved me
He got off
And I got scared
Because he loved me
And I was desperate
In his ****** apartment
On the tan colored L-shaped couch
While Nickelodeon played in the background
Covering up the sound of my painful moans
"I'm tired"
I say
"I've never done this before"
I say
"I haven't shaved in a while"
"I don't feel ****"
"I just got off work"
But I'll do it if I love him,
He says
He'll even wear a ******,
He says

I can't muster up the courage to cry
Even though you're supposed to cry when it hurts
He doesn't look at me when he's done
Just tells me to go
He loves me
But doesn't want me around
In case his roommates come home
That would be kind of awkward
To catch someone in the middle of ****** a girl
A girl who's tired
Who's never done this before
Who hasn't shaved in a while
Who doesn't feel ****
Who just got off work
Yeah, that would be kind of awkward

“You say so little, to nothing. Why are you so quiet?” He asks.

Before she can even answer, he presses his lips against her’s, stopping her from speaking.

Look up from your phone
See the world for what it is
Beautiful with every leaf and rock
Life doing what it does
Not needing anyone's approval or consent

He rode his fingers upon
      the prairies of her
                                   desires.

Gliding on the wild grass,
          never intruding without
                                       consent.

But she only let him travel
                to her pure
                           waterholes
                                        
Always thirty for him.

oh the whispers you hear

Rumors cling to her
As if she were born of fantasy
If you didn’t look close enough
You’d believe them

Her every feature memorized
From a distance
If stares could melt
She’d long be a puddle

Devouring eyes implore a taste
The touch becomes a habit
Filthy minds puppeteer filthy hands
A mixture of greed and obsession

You reach for her unvoiced desires
Assumed, as always
Untrue, as always
Affection dissolves before it appears

You demand an answer
The one you want to hear
Different from the one she gives
Yet excuses don’t work if the consent was never there in the first place

The stories she does not share
Haunt memories and thoughts,
Begging to be remembered
As she begs to forget

Love isn’t pretty
Love was never pretty

oh the whispers she hears