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| Short motivational poems by button poetry |
motivational poems for success:
I have given over 40 interviews
on my experiences
as a survivor of sexual violence.
And...
I am tired, and I am angry.
To the several employed journalists
who asked me if I was sure
that what happened
to me was rape?
To the true-crime reality
television producer
who told me, "You're going to have
to offer us some more specific details
if you are to expect anyone
to be able to sympathize with you.
Are you sure you don't remember
anything else?
What are you even sure of?"
I do remember that
the word "rape" never felt
like it belonged to me in the first place.
I do not remember what I was wearing.
I do not remember how much I had to drink.
I do not remember what time it was,
how long it lasted, or how it held me,
but I did not believe
that the word rape belonged to me.
Or after the responding officers
rolled their eyes,
or after a family member asked me
how I could let him get away with it,
or after you asked me if I was sure,
I mean, really sure?
And I'm sure that I had begun
trying to name this trauma
before it had even ended,
while it was still happening.
Accident or mistake or assault or my fault
and I'm sure it felt like every room
of my home being broken into
at the same time.
And I'm sure that I had
to start speaking in metaphor
for anyone to start listening.
And I'm sure that when a person
is willing to share with you
the trauma of someone trying
to take their body from them,
you should not try
to take their body from them.
And I am sure that several people
have assumed that I am a man,
and so asked me how dare I am so weak?
And I'm sure that man and woman
is not all a body can be,
and I'm sure it does not matter
if a body was an outstretched hand
or if for all the beating it took,
it could not remember how to form a fist.
And I'm sure it does not matter
if they were drunk
or they were aroused
or they were dressed in modesty
or dressed in moonlight, so, yeah,
I'm sure.
Of this, I am sure.
This, I remember.
Remember how I told you that it felt
like every room of my home
being broken into at the same time.
And remember how busy you were
trying to figure out how they got in (button poetry)
that you forgot all about the person
actually living there.
on my experiences
as a survivor of sexual violence.
And...
I am tired, and I am angry.
To the several employed journalists
who asked me if I was sure
that what happened
to me was rape?
To the true-crime reality
television producer
who told me, "You're going to have
to offer us some more specific details
if you are to expect anyone
to be able to sympathize with you.
Are you sure you don't remember
anything else?
 |
| Short motivational poems by button poetry |
What are you even sure of?"
I do remember that
the word "rape" never felt
like it belonged to me in the first place.
I do not remember what I was wearing.
I do not remember how much I had to drink.
I do not remember what time it was,
how long it lasted, or how it held me,
but I did not believe
that the word rape belonged to me.
Or after the responding officers
rolled their eyes,
or after a family member asked me
how I could let him get away with it,
or after you asked me if I was sure,
I mean, really sure?
And I'm sure that I had begun
trying to name this trauma
before it had even ended,
while it was still happening.
Accident or mistake or assault or my fault
and I'm sure it felt like every room
of my home being broken into
at the same time.
And I'm sure that I had
to start speaking in metaphor
for anyone to start listening.
And I'm sure that when a person
is willing to share with you
the trauma of someone trying
to take their body from them,
you should not try
to take their body from them.
And I am sure that several people
have assumed that I am a man,
and so asked me how dare I am so weak?
And I'm sure that man and woman
is not all a body can be,
and I'm sure it does not matter
if a body was an outstretched hand
or if for all the beating it took,
it could not remember how to form a fist.
And I'm sure it does not matter
if they were drunk
or they were aroused
or they were dressed in modesty
or dressed in moonlight, so, yeah,
I'm sure.
Of this, I am sure.
This, I remember.
Remember how I told you that it felt
like every room of my home
being broken into at the same time.
And remember how busy you were
trying to figure out how they got in (button poetry)
that you forgot all about the person
actually living there.
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| Short motivational poems by button poetry |
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