#Believed 

The details that bring me here today are the ones I will never forget. They have been seared into my memory and haunted me.

 –Christine Blasey Ford, September 2018

i.

I had no understanding of my body as a 10-year-old. 

I am swimming, slippery, like a seal 

and “uncle” is a net, grabbing my waist.

I wiggle away, he grabs my breast, I am caught.

Pressed against his rigid swimsuit, he thrust against me

Someone is taking a picture of us in the pool;

I am forced to smile.

No, a banned word, it isn’t polite, it isn’t nice. 

I say no, I say stop, I say don’t.

I am ignored.

ii.

I am 15, it’s hot, I don’t want to walk home,

my boyfriend’s friend offers.

I say ok. 

He jokes he’s going to rape me.

We are in the band room, people hear.

This is how he is, so we ignore the spaz.

He asks to come in, he asks for a beer,

takes it without my reply.

I’m on the couch, suddenly so is he.

The DA says it’s my word against his—

his word was consensual,

mine was rape, as in not believed.

iii.

A bunch of friends are spending the weekend in Mexico.

Drinking, taking shots, playing pool.

One man is a friend of a friend, is odd.

I ignore him.

There is dancing, so much dancing.

He doesn’t dance, he watches, he stares.

Tired, we crash in a hotel room, bodies everywhere.

I am not drunk, on the floor, sleeping in my clothes.

He is there, over me.

Jolt wake to fingers forceful in me, thick, rough

ripping my body from my bones.

The entire room sleeps.

I say no, I say stop, I say don’t, I move. 

I don’t sleep.

iv.

My body never felt like a temple -- 

more convenience store, where men

squeezed me for my ripeness.

The bigger my body, the more space

for men to feel, tap, brush up against, 

or probe in search of their own desire. 

Jerry was a thief, 

pilfering control, hijacking a spirit. 

His pet names and bad-boy persona

used to dominate me. 

Father of my unborn daughter, 

he tries vainly to force a miscarriage

and brutally evade responsibility. 

His mental abuse has left us both

with years of struggling to heal.

v.

I am beyond pissed; I am fucking livid. 

I am sad and tired. 

This is my truth.

I remember every moment 

of every assault, never forgetting. 

Trying to move on. 

Having moved on. 

Survived. 

I deserve to be believed.