He says
“my name is John
and don’t forget it”
oh I’m sorry
that’s so rude of me
I should introduce myself,
hi I’m
“on sale black boyfriend-style jeans”
“black grommet belt”
“XL work shirt”
some call me
“tangled hair still in last night’s pony-tail”
“hidden under a baseball cap with mascara-covered sleepy eyes”
but I call myself
“unsuspecting while scrolling on my phone”
I am “always 5 minutes late to work”
and “a couple extra coffees for my coworkers” acting as my unspoken apology
now that I’ve introduced myself
It would be rude to continue
without addressing you
Dear John,
with a thank you,
Thank you!
because of you
I’m a woman now!
and I became fully fledged
when your hand slipped down past the small of my back
I became a woman
and billions of women knew to scream cheers of:
“Welcome home our sister!”
“You’re finally one of us!”
“We’ve been waiting for you!”
a rite of passage and
a story as old as time itself
as I went to the police with
all the courage of waiting 300 days
after you had me in your palm
and what’s asked from me is if I recognize you
yes
of course I did
and do
and nothing could-can be done,
funny to think I could forget your face
so thank you John
now in honor of people like you when it’s
just us girlies hanging out
just catching a drink
cause we’re having a girls’ night
we can finally have something to talk about
we can trade our assault stories like favorite lip glosses
we can take my mascara for the first time you were flashed by a grown man
bonus points if he was old enough to be your father!
and for your pink-toned blush
I’ll give you the first time I realized my child-body was seen under an
erotic gaze
we can have just this, I think
us girls bonding over our rites of passage
the unspoken stories we pass down to our daughter and granddaughters
because
growing up
isn’t maturation
it’s becoming,
becoming adult-erated
eroded
and corrupted by touch
however with that comes knowledge
brings prevention
proper reaction
and active action
however that’s no fun for you
Dear John,
and again I need to apologize
I’m sorry
I’m getting carried away
and fantastical
I need to remind myself to just speak on what’s short, cold, and hard
the truth
that it is
accurate
What is it?
facts or flesh
constantly reminding myself
‘stop,
stop,
stop
stop having meaning,
beauty
or being in control,
so you can just be. be meat and rot
or
“moribund”
a reminder of life’s inescapable dim
now that’s a name I’ve never gone by
until now, and
oh god, again
how rude of me since i’ve
barely even introduced you
all they know is that you’re John
who doesn’t know better
when a shark smells blood
he doesn’t stop to ask why someone’s bleeding
the conversations I’ve had with a beings who cause more trepidation than apex predators
when my eyes instinctively lock forward
his warm breath creeps down my neck
and finally a squeeze
like a rabbit in the forest
I weigh my options
fight?
no
flight and flee
how?
walk to the nearest corner
where I can sit
and watch him waddle out:
is the best possible outcome
for now
I’ll take the detriment
from you getting off
scot-free
because I’ve gained a lesson
that has left myself ready
more aware
for any other John’s like you
so with that,
all and only that, finally
I can
thank you
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