It happened beneath a picture of a saint
The night HE showed no restraint
HE is a common coward, a rapist, a diseased pig
Taking advantage of a young girl makes HIM feel big
He should consider himself lucky that I will leave HIM with a dick
Just, finally, let me get this off my chest real quick
20 years fly before I can think to blink my eyes
But these things don’t go away, the feelings survive
No was repeated. No. I said No.
I pushed away from HIM from below
I may have said yes before but now No means more
I should have bit it off, spit it out on the floor
Afterwards I am lost, entranced by the light seeping under the bathroom door
The water running down the drain
Will not wash away HIS shame
I am gone before HE even knows
In the car before any tears start to show
The next day HE is sorry, right?
Remarks from a phone call by HIM so contrite
A mutual girlfriend puts her belief in HIM
Sharks of self doubt begin to swim within
I did not ask for this. It was not my fault or desire
But I’ll tell you something I learned from what transpired
That hat HE never removed hid HIS twisted devil’s horns
And what is left of my innocence mourns
HE is still here in my city breathing
Still a heathen, still seizing, deceiving, sleazing
HE taught me that penises make the world go around
And females are best meant to lay down
Power and strength reign
With no decent sense of shame
Another way of keeping women in perpetual frowns
Giving us water as they watch us drown
An assault on all the senses
A molestation behind picket fences
Left me always wondering
About my vagina’s plundering
Virgin naivety wrecked
Was this my fault? What did I expect?
Society places unreasonable blame
Pressure to shame, to defame
Bitter, YES, from what happened to me
I continue, forced to float in my own debris
Kelly Glover grew up and resides in Greensboro, North Carolina where she is the supreme leader of three kids, two cats, and one failed marriage. Suffering has taught her to find humor in the darkness, and from that humor bursts the light. Cliché could be her middle name, but she prefers Louise.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you include links in your comment the whole comment will likely be deleted as spam. You have been warned! Otherwise, dialoguing with these poems is encouraged.