So, This Is Where You Stop Reading, Right?

They said everything was going to be okay if I would just forget about it

If I would just forget about it

If I could just forget about it, I could look at the bottom of steering wheels

Like a normal person

If I could just forget about it, I could count to twenty-eight and not feel

Like crumpled up paper airplanes made out of laundry listed time lines

Of where I was supposed to be right now

All wrinkled up and fucked up and thrown right into the garbage can

To be picked up on Mondays with all the rest of your unwanted things

If I could just forget about it

I would let other people pay for my tea and not feel like there was a tag

On the back of my neck that said: I’m Not Allowed To Say No

Because no is a privilege, not a given right

And people only have to listen sometimes

They say that you’re supposed to scream “no” at the top of your lungs

You’re supposed to shake your head and squeeze your legs together

You’re supposed to not look like a slut but it would be more convenient

For everyone if you did

So it would be easier to blame you

For the worst day of your life

Because you did everything you’re supposed to do

And it still failed

There are blogs, articles, books and journals detailing “How To’s” on

How Not To Get Raped

But I guess my rapist didn’t read them

Because when I screamed “no” he laughed and said “No what?”

When I shook my head, he grabbed my hair and yanked my skull back

So fast and so hard that my neck cracked

And when I squeezed my legs together, he pried them apart with his

I wish I could say that I was dressed like a slut to relieve you of how

Awkward this must be for you – you know – reading about my rape

But I was in an oversized t-shirt and panties

And I wish I could say that it was just some stranger

And I was wrongfully going out on a late night Ben & Jerry’s run

For my overactive hormones

While PMSing

But it was a regular Wednesday night

And I knew the guy

I knew him so well that on Thursday nights we cuddled up and watched Scandal

I knew him so well that I sang John Mayer to him through my shower door

I knew him so well that he brought me cartons of blueberries because he knew

That they were my favorite fruit

I wasn’t going out on a late night Ben & Jerry’s run

I was going to sleep

In my bed

In my apartment

With the guy that I apparently knew so well, right next to me

And sure, we had recently stopped the Friends With Benefits thing

Because he had gotten a little too rough a few too many times

But I guess I must have been a dumb bitch that deserved it for thinking

That we could be just friends

So, this is where you stop reading, right?