The Memory I've Buried: A Poem

The Memory I've Buried

I

Hate

To

Expose

Him

Like

This

But

I

Can't

Take

It

Anymore

A plane.

Featuring:

A boy.

And a girl.

There's sense of longing to be near,

But these hearts are craving two different things.

"Do you want to come sit by me?"

No.

Don't do it.

Please.

"Sure."

Stupid girl.

What was supposed to be so innocent,

A movie maybe,

Or a shoulder to sleep on,

Turned into something it never should have been.

Hands.

Rough and commanding.

One-sided fear,

Thousands of feet up in the air.

The memories come in flashes.

Lips trembling.

Mixed signals.

Heart pounding.

A blanket hiding fingers

That won't accept hesitation for an answer.

"I don't think..."

(She was the only one thinking.)

No answer.

Seconds.

Minutes.

Hours?

No.

It couldn't have been.

Over.

It's finally over.

A rush of shame,

Heat smothering her cheeks,

A boy who hasn't registered that he's in the wrong.

He's laid his head on her lap;

She's trying to control her panicked breaths.

Sexual assault?

Shhh, don't say that.

It'll make it feel too real.

Wasn't he your boyfriend?

That almost makes it worse.

Oh god.

From that moment on,

That memory lived in the back of her mind.

And suddenly every time she saw him

All she could think about was

Every

Single

Other

Time

Her body was asked for and she wasn't ready:

Groping hands,
A shirt tossed aside,
Lingering second-thoughts
Smothered out
In the heat of the moment.

His "good-guy" disguise
Tore a little more
Every
Time
It
Happened,
Revealing the monster underneath,
The ugliness hidden behind a rosy facade.

She thought---

No.

Maybe she didn't think.

I'm embarrassed by the memory,

This one among others that I've stuffed down for too long.

Was I just not strong enough?

Could I have stopped him?

Is

It

My

Fault?

Maybe that's why I left you.

Deep down,

I think I was afraid of you.

* * *

I wrote this on a frantic Tuesday night.

I usually try to keep my blog light and happy for the most part, but this has been a serious trigger for my anxiety over the past few months, and I needed to do something. Anything.

This poem is not about rape (I was blessed enough that it never went there), but it is about true experiences.

Please be kind in the comments.

That is all.

Cheers,