begins with the words I’ll never write…

This is the poem
in which I unshame rape
and the very mention of the word
doesn’t strange the whole room

This is the moment
I trust you to hear
without changing everything
you know about me

the space where I tell you what it was like
and it isn’t accostingly personal
and you don’t swoon in pity
or take your hand to your mouth

it’s still accessible
soft and twisting
the way I bring you in thru the side door
so you can see it just how it is

not a car crash
or a bloody mess
not a lost dog
or a dream deferred

it’s a state of the union
made a little less sterile
it’s another lovely face
on a faceless victim
one more name
for another nameless act

‘cause when they call it an offense
I’m wounded twice over
Officer, I wasn’t offended
I was raped

and these are the words
that press pause on our fixing
I won’t need to compel you
we all know what awful is

we won’t talk about policy
or campus police
a quarter of us will share a knowing look
the rest will take a deep breath

we won’t pick up the phone
to call our state senator
or write a manifesto
at least not right away

first we’ll just see how
one hand’s betrayed another
everyone the wounding
and everyone the hurt

how we steal from ourselves
cast apart our belonging
nowhere to turn over new leaves
but right here

now is the part
where you don’t say you’re sorry
or share your own story
of violence and hate

you’ll just sit with me, being
until the poem can be written
that starts with one word
spoken in peace

and when you call your sister
at dusk tomorrow evening
you’ll ask how she is
and both ears will be open