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Arisa Mar 2
An insect.
That crawls upon my body, except I can't quickly swat it away
Without causing attention to myself
and everyone noticing that my
white ******* are pulled
all the way down
to my ankles.

My lips are dry so I bite them.
Knuckles whitening while I hold onto the grip-strap
And I hear his heavy breathing against my neck.
I look at the tunnels, quickly passing by.
'Maybe this will end fast too?'

Naive of me to think so.

Sliding into my flower
Like a toxic, little aphid.
Stuck on my sticky leaves
As petals are parted and

I pour out of the open doors in Shinjuku station,
And run out, wiping a tear on my sleeve.
I tug up my decency
While I run to the ticket booth.
Angry foreigner was yelling at the old man who sits within.
The clock above strikes eight.
I decide that it's not worth it.
I won't tell anyone.
It doesn't matter.
Could be worse.
It's okay.
I'm okay.







I wasn't okay.
I recall a time where I was molested by a pervert in the trains of Tokyo when I was in middle school.
K Feb 28
Your tactics make me uneasy.
Your staring makes me uncomfortable.
But because you are a "A Student" you are incapable of harrassment.
You think to pushing up against me is ok.
You think standing in front of my way is just.
Because I refuse to date you I should be punished.
So your behavior is ok
This harrassment is unacceptable,
But acceptable in your mind.
I feel hopeless
Because I am a young black woman in high school they pay me no mind.
When I lash out and defend myself
You play the victim and I am deemed crazy
You get away clean
And I anxiously wish to get free
Away from your grip
By something that you created in your mind.
Noelis Feb 24
i used to be like the color white
so pure, innocent and bright.
he took that from me
stole my purity
undressed my divine body
he didn’t enter my sacred place
but he did ring the bell
and nothing is scarier
than being stripped of your innocence
and seeing the world as it is
still being a child.
You have a two year old daughter
She’s beautiful and smart
She’s you’re whole world
Someday she’ll be where I am
19 and working in a resteraunt to get through college
And I’m sure
You’d be sick if anyone treated her the way you treat me
So why do you do it?
Mackenzie Jan 15
No means no
It does not mean convince me
No
I do not want to get in the passenger seat
As a child
Throughout my teens
Harassment is engraved deep into my memories

Nap time
A touch over my jeans
The teacher did not mind
We were just kids, right?


No became a new word
with a new meaning
Flashbacks to heavy breathing
Your sweat dripping onto me
Singing my skin

At the age of six
When most kids are playing games and learning cool tricks
You harassed me with
Words i could not repeat
No means no!
****** boy get this through your head
Give it a rest
Silly girl, you're playing games
And this is chess
Make a move, what’s new
I’m always next
I think now, you must have been obsessed

No means no but
in your head it meant ***
No, please don’t leave us alone
I knew where this would go
Flashback to the sound of doors being locked
Give up
Your pants are already off

No does not mean convince me
But it didn’t prevent you from stealing my virginity
Engraved into my brain
A cookie wrapper
Just to be safe
I screamed no but
Silently
It was ****
Arke Dec 2018
catcall the bell-wearer
whose toll is paid in soft looks
longing sighs and blue eyes
like a Siamese cat because
an animal caged won't rebel
whistle and marvel at lithe grace
possessed by beauty of presence
charm that smokes and chars
magnified only by their walk
like a dance for poppies
made only more appealing
with cold shoulders and fury
EmilyBatdorf Nov 2018
I remember his voice, pitched-low,
a smooth glass of Scotch, but hard to swallow this time.
Tension unfurled in my stomach, foreboding locked my legs.
My hands quivered, I shoved them away,
eyes down, my firm voice, met with anger,
outraged at this personal slight.
We walked by, granting space for his rage,
his ego too big to share the street, to let us walk by unbothered.
Rejection hung in the air, weighed down by our fear.
The sounds of his steps, his speech coming faster more aggressive,
mimicking his steps.
My head spun, the air came too quick, panic pounded at the door
to my head, pressing its way in.
Our feet began to slap the ground, **** these sandals,
a call to him, an encouragement, us defenseless in the emptied street.
The elevator felt unsafe, plain and empty walls.
My window was securely fastened despite the heat,
door double bolted, shaking on the bed,
free from adrenaline and moved by fear.
The room was too empty, too vulnerable,
comfort only from my feeble connection to my home.
Sweaty, tired hands of mine clutched it to me,
falling asleep with the safety of his voice,
swirling around me, shoving off the unwanted
traces of chilling words and tear-stained makeup.
Amanda Oct 2018
In a Catholic school, I was nothing
but an untrained brain, a pair of legs
in a short skirt, and calves in knee-high black socks
pulling my skirt down, tugging at the wool
to protect myself. I never thought
myself to be apart of that group,
never gotten ***** or abused, but then,
I thought longer…harder about my position,

and your greedy hand still finds my legs
under the wool, despite my efforts, lingering
there for half a second too long. I still feel it
when I put myself back in that desk.
It wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t innocent.  
You knew what you were doing.
The excuses I made to justify
your behavior. I couldn’t fathom
how you, a man, much older than me,
could touch me without my permission—
How easily you could do that to me.
Invade my space while I sat there,
Frozen,
unsure of what to say or do. And now,
years later, I quietly utter beneath
my breath, “Me too.”
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