#MeToo
Archived poetry: 10/2017
My first #metoo was when I was a child
At 14, having a moment of Girls Gone Wild
On a dare I showed my breasts to a friend
At a concert, in a field, out in the open
And a stranger approached us, having just seen
My smaller than A cups and then intervened
Ignored my embarrassment, he called me a hussy
Took a page from our president, and grabbed my pussy
And #myfault, and #blamegame
I shouldn’t have done it. I still feel ashamed.
My #metoo happened in school
Trying to blend in with the rest of the pool
When something I said upset one of the guys
I don’t remember his name but I remember his eyes
As he lifted me off of the ground by my face
Straining my neck, he held me in place
With his size and his strength he ignored my plea
My friends fought him off. This male who silenced me.
I shouldn’t have said that. I just shouldn’t speak.
My #metoo was a foggy black mess
An assault by a male who knew me best
My supposed best friend not respecting my “no”
But taking my body where I couldn’t go
That moment lay dark in the back of my brain
Roaring to life, full of sounds and of pain
Again I’m back there laying on top of that bed
His words of assurance rolling inside of my head
It’s something I did and my body betrayed me.
My #metoo was just after that moment
I go into the shower to wash off the torment
As I stand there weeping behind the clear glass
He watches me, staring at my bare-naked ass
I plead him to leave. I beg him to go.
As I scream, he finally obeys the word “no.”
I still feel the fear inside of my brain
When I watched the red pool dissapear down the drain
And #myfault, and #sameoldsong
I know I did something. I must have done wrong.
My #metoo went on for years of abuse
Self-esteem degraded from constant disuse
Taught to question my judgement, I don’t trust myself
Taught to fear sudden punishment, my mind on a shelf
I sabotage my future, I’m a half present mother
Mind is stuck in the past, in words of another
And his words are still there, telling me lies
To possess me one day and be his won prize
I ignored the red flags, and now I’m just jaded
My #metoo is in every unsolicited text
From coworkers, friends and sometimes an ex
“Show me your body” “What are you wearing?”
“What color are your panties and why aren’t you sharing?”
“Show me your nipples.” “Don’t be a prude.”
“I know that you’re married, you don’t have to be rude.”
“Send me a picture.” “Why won’t you give?”
I’m moving into the complex where you live.
I don’t set good boundaries and why don’t I learn?
There are frightening moments inside of my mind
There are giant black spaces of memories blind
And I don’t know what lay in them, they terrify me
Do I let them back in, set those memories free?
This one shattered me. It still hurts me right now
My chest starts to tighten, sweat forms on my brow
I’m worried they’ll appear right out of the blue
I’ll be shaking with shame from another me too
Each day I am lucky to have my loved ones
To wake up each morning. To look at the sun
I’m lucky to have a man who still loves me for me
Who sees my best. Who just lets me just be
Who pushes me to get better. To get what I need
Who put me in therapy to help me feel freed
Maybe one day I won’t feel this pain
I hope so. I look forward to feeling sane
Because this isn’t just a poem that I’ve written for you
These are my #metoos and each one is true