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?
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