Sometimes, I have run out of ways to phrase this delicatley
Metaphors about a girl who is not me that are soft enough for you to ignore.
I am ready to punch you in the face with my existence,
With my 30% PLUS chance of suffering domestic violence in my lifetime
With having owned a rape alarm since I was twelve (And being the last girl in my class to be bought one)
With finding it is safer to lie about a non existent boyfriend
Than to state a lack of interest
With the reality that I am here, I am real, and I am a lucky one
I am not carrying the child of a man who thought he was entitled to my body
I do not carry the scars of harshly thrown anger
I am lucky.
But when I was assaulted,
“You were so close at one point”
“You should really talk to him”
“This is akward for us!”
Are all direct quotes from the people I looked to for support
I know his name. I know his parents, his siblings, his schools, his first pets name!
I know he plays World of Warcraft, I know he cannot sing,
I know the way he hugs, I know what he buys for comfort food.
I know this man.
Not All Men?
I do not care.
Enough for me to walk in fear, scared little man.
But I walk anyway.