#metoo
to raise awareness about the rampancy of sexual harassment and sexual assault, survivors of sexual violence are using #metoo to voice their ideas and experiences online. the hashtag has been trending for a few days, and the sheer volume of tweets and other social media posts is evidence that rape culture dominates modern sexual climate. it's been challenging for me to write something that sufficiently captures the experience of sexual violence in under 140 characters. therefore, i wanted to share a poem that i wrote about one instance of sexual assault i have experienced. to my fellow survivors out there, stay strong. you are loved.
holes
we’d hooked up before
I guess that's how I justified not reporting him for what he did to me
because to some extent, I wasn't sure if it was actually even as wrong as it felt
I could've stopped it if I wanted to, I rationalized
want me to fuck your ass? he said
no, I mumbled
sorry
I don't know why but I'm always saying sorry
as if not wanting to do anal was something to apologize for
no, I mumbled
he did it anyways
stop, I said, more serious this time
I was facing down on my stomach and he was on top of me
it hurt really bad
please finish, I pleaded, please just come
no, he said, you're going to take it until i'm done with you.
I told him to stop a few more times, but he didn't listen
after a while I realized my resistance only italicized the pain
so I stuffed my face into the pillow, clenched my teeth together, and took it
after he was done, he bit my leg, hard
I’d have a dark black bruise on my inner calf for the next four weeks.
when my friends asked how I got it, I didn't know what to say.
I was embarrassed.
I felt dirty in a way that couldn't be washed.
a week later he got suspended from school for plaigerism
the day he left I got a text
"sad I won't have your holes to use anymore"
I'd been reduced to holes
holes to be used and legs to be bruised
I was disgusted and I wanted to run away, not from a place, but from a feeling of being and being wrong and trapped and lost and used, but my body isn't something I can ever run away from.
that weekend I ran into an ex boyfriend at a party
he was drunk and sucking down smoke when I ran up to hug him
I hadn't seen him since he broke up with me over the phone that summer
I guess I was drunk too because I started kissing his cheek
what the fuck are you doing?
I was taken aback
sorry, I said, and half jokingly told him to stop attacking me
that's when he lost it
what the fuck, you're being so loud.
do you know what it's like to be accused of attacking a girl here?
if you’re a guy and a girl accuses you of attacking her, you're done.
he sounded right but I knew he was wrong
fuck you, I said and walked away, looking down at my knee-high socks to make sure the bruise was concealed.
I still have holes I guess
one for every man I'd let wrong me
but they’re inside me and no one can get to them
I think flowers grow out of them now.
they're beautiful because they're mine, and
no one uses my holes but me.
xo,
hannah