We talked online all morning and decided to meet.
I picked you up at BART, the transportation
That I get too anxious to figure out.
You looked better than in your photos, and the first
Thing I said to you was “hey nerd.”.
I took you to another town and you joked about me
Kidnapping you. We sat on the patio of the pizza place
And I stared into your eyes and you looked away.
We talked about race, about family, about strip clubs.
About travel, about being passionate about what we do.
We drank and I smoked pot in the white retirement
Town I unwillingly call home. The chemistry was thick as honey.
Then the moment came where you started looking at me,
Looking into my chocolate colored eyes where all my secrets are hidden,
And I looked away, shy and exposed.
After one and a half beers, like the college kid you are, you were tipsy.
I being an old experienced woman can drink several glasses of bourbon
Without feeling buzzed.
We left and held hands as we walked to the car. Your face beamed as if you had won a prize,
And I didn’t know why. I am the broken girl, I am the mistake, I am the trauma pot.
I have the dark history I’m too afraid to tell anyone.
I drove us to my place and you couldn’t stop touching and kissing me.
Kissing while driving may not be the safest idea, but I have partaken
In many riskier behaviors.
I took you straight to bed. We undressed. I let you do what you wanted
Because I thought I was safe with you. Then I began staring at the ceiling,
Then I realized I wasn’t a person to you. I was a hole, two mounds of
Acceptable fat, and red lips. You became aggressive, you bit my lip
So hard you drew blood and I cried out.
I asked you to stop. I asked you to leave. I had to drive you
Back to BART, it was dark and I was crying, and all you could say
Was “please don’t cry.” over and over like a dial tone. So I cried more.
It all reminded me of the assault when I was twelve that I never talk about.
That I still have PTSD from. That triggers me every time I see that
Toyota truck or someone puts their weight on me.
I came home, alone, sobbing. Tried to find someone to talk to, but everyone was tired.
An addition to the loneliest moments of my life.
My entire body trembled. I started having a panic attack.
I couldn’t get to the shower to wash your smell off me, your saliva off me,
Your cum off me, I couldn’t brush my teeth, I couldn’t wash my face.
I took off my clothes and let them fall to the floor.
My skin slimy from your kisses. I curled up in bed,
In the fetal position as if I was transported back to 1984, the baby nobody cared for.
I didn’t sleep. As I moved, the bed creaked and wiggled. And I realized,
You broke my metal bed frame. Another thing you took from me.
