sexual assault: a poem


I was asleep on the couch, in the middle of the day.

I remember

my mom was barely a room away.

You forced your filthy hands into my mouth

And tried to have your way.

You got naked from the waist down, expecting to get a little something

So you could tell all your friends in class

you were just “this close” to getting a piece of “that ass”

I was too afraid to yell, It seemed like a dream.

My word against yours, who would they believe?


I was with an older guy, he seemed totally cool

Until he forced his way into me

Night after night after night

I kept saying no but it wouldn’t sink in

He thought that was clue for “wake me up, come right in”

And I was tired and torn and sad and ashamed

And for what? The damage he made?

I was old enough, right? To know what to do?

And everyone thought I was the bad guy when I left you.

And see; I only have two stories, some girls have way more.

But we ignore it because it makes us unsure,

Because we’re scared of what some men might say or might do.

We’re afraid to admit the problems at hand

I don’t have an answer; neither for me or for you.

But rest assured pretty, all will be well.

The future is female, if you can’t already tell.


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