You took my choice away.
Totally disregarded my simple request.
What should I have said instead?
I asked you nicely.
Then I asked you desperately.
But despite my pleas for release,
You ignored me.
You took what you wanted.
You didn’t care how I felt.
And I can’t ever seem to get the feel of you off me.
I am great most days.
Until I run into you.
It seems like you’re everywhere.
Because all I hear is, “Me Too”.
I have encountered you 3 times.
Each time- a vivid, unforgettable, memory.
I reflect, release, and heal.
Like a neverending cycle.
I go along just fine.
Until I am reminded.
Not by choice, but circumstance.
Out of nowhere and without warning.
I do all I can to avoid you.
But you just show up in other men.
Other men are you.
And I am other women.
The next time we say, “STOP!”
Please show some respect and listen.
“Little things” are only little to you.
Your bare naked chest, hand in your pants,
and entire behind above your waistband.
All I did is come to work.
But I’m forced to see what I’d rather not.
I respectfully ask you
To respect me and cover up.
You laugh in my face and flex your biceps.
You’re just a teen, I should be the one to understand.
But the truth is you’re a boy, preparing to become a man.
I saw you at the grocery store.
I tried to move fast and hide my face.
But somehow you managed to see me anyway.
You had the nerve to say hello
And tap me on the shoulder
But the last time I saw you,
You had me pinned on your living room floor.
I told you to stop, too many times to count.
Thank God your boy came to the door
I was able to get up and run out.
The other two episodes, are too horrid to mention.
The worst of the worst. No exaggeration.
One incident, two, then three.
All ending the same and stealing a sacred piece of me.
You never deserved it. That’s why I told you, “No”.
Yet somehow that was code for, “snatch off my clothes”.
Do you feel like a man, since you took what you wanted?
Does it make you feel good that I didn’t want it?
To see you in my students,
And me in your daughters
Makes me so sick to my stomach
I wish I could vomit.
I’d spew your touch off my skin.
The weight of your body up off me.
The memories from my recollection.
Purging until my womb was restored to its original condition
You violated my most intimate possession
I made it clear as day, you never had my permission.
Now, every time I run into one of you,
Again, I lose my choice,
and I’m forced to say #MeToo.