10.20.20
SNAKE.S.KIN
The Melodys I never said out loud:
I mended my heart, and made myself believe I was a chapter worth reading. Then you came along and re-wrote my story. You stapled my pages together and punched holes between my words. You played alphabet soup with the origami of the stomach I threw up in drunken incapacitation. There’s been screams in my belly since that night. Booze does that to people. It makes them stupid and like it.
You’re like that. Stupid, and I liked it. I should have known when I saw the Leo in you. The one that shines all lights on your glories while casting shadows around yous so you can feel just a little taller.
Not Leo like lion. Leo like puffer fish. I should’ve pressed needle to your bubble the first time I saw you haughtiness. I should’ve known you were venom when I saw all cheeks and no chin. Have you looked in the mirror? Even your eyebrows lack definition. But that’s what loneliness does to people, it makes them find other lonely people and tolerate the reason they were lonely in the first place. Now, what sets us apart, Un-Dear Puffer-Fish; I’ve learned to love my name while you run away from yours. One of us found company in our reflection.
In this America you so love and cherish, they are all innocent until proven guilty. But not me. I am a liar until I am proven honest. Rapists cannot live with the truth: survivors cannot live without it. You’ve spent enough time in books and suds-therapy to know the verbiage, but don’t realize you wear their words like accessories. Crowd pleasing or self pleasing. Which is it?
And isn’t it sad. The question has evolved from a simple yes or no, to a “how many times? In how many ways?”
Here’s the thing. You don’t get to define yourself here. It’s pretty black and white. I didn’t want you. You didn’t listen. So, when you tell me your tongue was numb to the vomit in the back of my throat, I will tell you. “Good luck, I hope you find peace.”
Because, I’ve found mine, and nothing. Not even your denial, can take that away from me.
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Give Them a Name
8 – Pollo, my brother / the neighbor made me suck his dick, convinced me it would keep him from getting sick.
14 – Ricardo, he was 22, and my only friends’ boyfriend. After he raped me, she didn’t talk to me for weeks. I tried to set my mothers apartment on fire.
18 – Thandor, North Carolina. We’d been in the cold and rain for three days. Nothing was dry. We were so desperate for a place to stay, we agreed to sleep in the mans trailer besides our better judgment. Bells and I held each other, and cried ourselves to sleep.
20 – First year in AZ. I don’t know his name. Their name? I was DD, someone roofied my red bull. Kali and Annya found me naked in the frat room. They rushed me to the hospital where they administered Flumazenil so my heart would not stop beating. They did not provide a rape kit. They took my bra and underwear.
22 – Alex, in a manic episode, left me downtown. No phone, no wallet. Three men and one ally. I came home with purple skin and a broken rib. Holly took me to the hospital, and called my mother. She was on the next flight over. They administered a drug test upon arrival. Within an hour, all results came back clear. They delayed the rape kit so much no viable seminal fluid was found.
26 – Melody. An alcoholic with an ego problem fucked me while I was black out. A feminist who says “She was asking for it.”
My best friend still blames himself for that night.