Undercover Rape

One comes in to disturb me in my sleep-

Then another, so he can be pleased.

I want to tell them to stop,

I want to tell them to get off,

But for some reason… I don’t-

For some reason, I feel like I can’t

I want to cry out and scream-

But instead, I lay there silently.

I just lay there and take it;

It won’t take long- I can take it.

He’ll finish any second now

Writing about it now, I wonder how-

In the skin that I am currently in:

How did I let that happen to me?

How did I become a victim of rape?

Me- this force to be reckoned with,

That seemingly no one dare mess with-

This body that was rigorously trained,

To defend herself- unashamed

For years I told myself that it was my fault:

That it was my responsibility-

I was the one who drank too much,

I was the one who was the slut.

Those memories make the skin that I currently sit in crawl,

And I wonder: when did I fall-

Or was I just born like this?

Voice silenced:

Destructively compliant

A good man and a good friend

Once said to a young woman

“Honey, you think you made the decision-

And maybe in a way you did,

But he knew what he was doing was a sin.”

It isn’t until nearly a decade later,

That I realize -in saying that- he was doing me a favor:

He was freeing me from the self-blame-

From the shame

Now I sit here, in my beautiful skin

Realizing that I was not who I am now- then.

Just as I now have such a loud, uncompromising voice for the truth:

That young woman did not have this voice-

She was unaware of her choice

I suppose I always told myself that rape was and is this terrible, violent thing:

Where the victim fought for their life, kicked and screamed.

When comparing my trauma to that-

It doesn’t seem so bad.

This was the story I told myself for years,

But now, I let go of the fears

Of being judged, beaten down, or not taken seriously:

Now I go forward curiously,

In pure wonderment, with a lightness in my chest-

Of what my psyche will reveal to me next

It was not my fault; It is not my fault.

It is, however, my responsibility,

To release myself from those demons that are silently killing me:

Attempting to manipulate the truth,

Of my unchanging youth

Here: Now: I release this trauma-

No longer will I entertain this drama

That plays over and over again in my head,

Making me uncomfortable in my own bed

Now- I release; Now- I sleep

-Rachel Germon

Author’s facebook