last year i was at this bar with my friends
and i met this guy who seemed so nice and polite
but please read this poem all the way to the end
and i hope you'll realize NOW it's our time to fight
so i'm talking to this guy who seems polite and nice
one second he tells me how much he likes my eyes
the other second he asks me if i'm taken
i tell him i'm not, he acts surprised, half a drink later
he asks me strange questions that fill me with unease
he's staring at my chest and his hands are on my knees
i just met him and i barely even know him
but he bought me two drinks and says now i'm supposed to blow him
i say no and go outside for a walk
i didnt notice he followed me and right beside the side walk
he stops me and holds me and the next thing i know
is that i'm on my knees, behind a wall and he tells me to go
he grips my hair and forces me down
and he says if i tell somebody he'd tell the whole town
about these pictures i once sent when i was young and in love
with a guy who had pressured me to do things i didn't know of
at some point he slams back into my throat
and it hurts and i cry and i gag and i choke
and he moans and he smirks and tells me i look great
and when he comes down my throat i realize that I have just been RAPED
he drags me back inside and our friends give us that look
they assume we made out until one of his friends says "look,
i don't think they did, he's got no lipstick on his lips"
as he thinks i can't hear him he whispers to his mate "but maybe on my dick"
and they both look at me like i was a toy
does nobody think of the possibility that i ... didn't enjoy??
i saw him again after a couple of weeks
he has a girlfriend now and she seemed pretty sweet
i hope he'll never use her against her will
but deep down inside i assume that he will
for some time i thought it had been my fault
that my dress was too short, it was August, it wasn't cold
i told myself that i was dressing like a tease
but then i remember that that time my friend was at church and the priest
raped her right there in a place of god, she was eight and her chest was flat as can be
her jeans were long, he still forced himself on her and hurt her whilst saying please
and he told her jesus wouldn't love her if she told anyone about it
so DON'T FUCKING TELL ME IT'S ABOUT CLOTHES WHEN SHE WAS COVERED UP AND SCARED AND JUST A KID
so if you ask men apparently i'm a tease
and the length of my dress proves i'm only to please
and my shorts are an invitation to whistle when you pass
BUT DON'T YOU REALIZE I AM MORE THAN MY ASS?
WE ARE BEING RAPED AND FORCED AND ASSAULTED
and your locker room talk is nothing but rape culture
no means no
and later means no
and i don't feel like it means no
and i'm tired means no
and i'm not ready means no
ANYTHING ELSE THAN YES MEANS NO
if she's drunk if she's naked if she's in your bed IT DOESN'T MATTER
if she doesn't want it then you can't fucking touch her
and if you can't get over your ego and accept and respect this
no matter how drunk you are, then you are a RAPIST
its twenty eighteen and i'm printing this poem to hang it into a public loo
i've never told anybody but you might have a story like mine too
i hope that you don't and that we can fight this war
that we won't keep all of this behind a locked door
our stories shall be heard and our voices shall be loud
i can see changes happening, i hope we'll make it so we can be proud
and i PRAY that my kids won't live in a world like mine
that they won't have strangers grabbing their behinds
in buses or trains, at school and in the streets
i hope that they will never cry themselves to sleep
i hope they'll only experience sex as an act of love
and trust and intimacy and love love LOVE
and that we will teach people how to treat each other kindly
and that no kid will have a story like me
and instead of telling young girls to cover up
can't you PLEASE just STOP FUCKING RAPING US?
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