Waited till the last minute to put down in words
Because the anger is too raw
The media dices us up like chickens ready for the batter
Breast, leg, thigh
And wants us to lose 20 pounds because
Glamour and Cosmopolitan PhotoShops perfection
Unobtainable in the real world
Angry
Because a glimpse of our thigh in a short skirt
Gives you the right to call us a whore and a slut
And tells the world that we wanted it
When all we wanted was to have fun with friends
Angry
Because we have to dance with our drink in our hands
Because today there’s a 99% chance something
We didn’t order will end up in our glass
A potent cocktail that will make us
wake up in an unfamiliar place
A night we don’t remember
A painful memento of bruises
on our wrists, buttocks, and breasts
Visible proof we wanted it
Angry
That escaping sexual violence is the exception and not the rule
Nearly every one of my girlfriends has been raped
And blamed
Because they trusted the smile
that crinkled the corner of his eyes
Until the pupils dilated and the smile faded
into the real reason for his attention
Angry
That we cannot yet walk down our streets at night alone
For fear we might not make it home
the same way we left
That darkness is the enemy
where the practiced hunter waits for the
prey
Angry
That someone that we know
That we trust
Has the ability to turn into a predator
With sheer opportunity
Angry
That only 3 out of 100 rapists
Will ever see the inside of a prison cell
Because only half of those victimized
Will ever come forward
Because in this day and age
telling the truth still
Stigmatizes the truth-bearer
Angry
That we have to have special events
To draw attention to sexual violence prevention
Because no one is apparently
Teaching boys about consent and
not to rape
That in the time it takes to read this poem
Another person’s been victimized
Because the next generation is growing up to think
Despite #metoo
no means no means maybe
and if we don’t fight back than yes
we wanted it
we want it
but really, we don't
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