“Thread your lower lip between your teeth,” he whispered
He said, “I have a weak spot for pretty girls who pout.”
He lay her insecurities down in the cradle of his hips
And left purpled handprints along her biceps as he held her arms down
Because he felt entitled to an all-access pass to her body
And told her to take it as a compliment—
The word rape was never in her vocabulary
Until it was the only word she knew,
Meanwhile he lacked the ability to grasp the meaning of the word “consent”
Using his able body to attempt to break her spirit
And dim her starry eyes, polished and bright with liquor.
He relentlessly pumped out her independence to insert his dominance,
He felt untouchable
With adrenaline propping up the booster seat to his confidence
He felt fulfilled instead of condemned
And laughed as he smeared her tears across her cheekbones
She thought she heard them snap as her heart broke
She could only plead,
“I’m not a tease, but since when did ‘NO’ translate to ‘Will you, please?”
In arrogance, he waved her words away from his ears
So they fell to the floorboards crumpled and torn
Before they were trampled under his heels as he stumbled away
Exultant and triumphant,
No thought to the despair or the crippling weight
She was left to shoulder alongside fresh hate
Which boiled and simmered for six silent years
Before she realized she was pickling her tongue and her shriveling vocal cords
She slowly stopped clenching her teeth and biting her nails
And let syllables slip from between her chapped lips and worn fingertips
Severing the threads stitching shame to her soul,
She worked to once again easily connect and converse
And discovered she was far from alone.
But see, it’s never just about dominance, masculinity, or the number of rapes
It’s about how frequently people are taken advantage of
How multiple people turn away
Pointing fingers and continuously shifting the blame
That society often deems misogyny and ignorance okay
No thought to how victims must trudge on with scars,
Pills clutched in the dark,
Pills on top of pills consumed to consume feelings
How victims are not allowed to mourn the weeks, months, and years
Lost to depression and self-hate, but are encouraged to “just get over it”
Many are taught to slip by with Band-Aids plastered over tear ducts
While their hands are duct-taped to their sides so they don’t rise to form fists.
Instead of teaching people to run towards something,
To go about dancing again,
We numb tongues into muffled submission
Claiming issues are “taken care of” even though they are less than half-addressed
We need to make a change
Nurture trust and acceptance regardless of class, gender, or age
Remove our headphones from our ears and open our arms
Learn to listen and observe, to be patient and concerned
Because what she wears doesn’t mean his actions are excused
That she has sex with other guys but not you, doesn’t mean she’s playing hard to get
Own up to the fact that rape is by definition non-consensual,
You’re deluded if you still think that means she was “asking for it.”