the memory remains
I tried to formulate words, instead words formulated me
and betrayed me in their fluidity
the ease in which they dripped from my lips
it shook me...til I was shaken and stirred
my words are infidelity, and they cheat on me frequently
I asked my vocabulary if it loves me
cause its so beligerant
and it spills out of my fingertips while I watch helpless behind half-closed eyes
between asleep and awake is the space in which the real I exists
where fate and fantasy collide when I persist
my tragic downfall - zero immunity to the consumption of love
it manifests itself in me like illness
the blood in my body is 13x13 celcius
so vapor runs under my skin until it overflows and wets glossy lips, its lemonade
full clothed I'm sweet and naked
my flower has soft petals that cry pollen to make love to your pores
my spine tightens with this tension
my fear of this is the color lavender
so I overstand you understand how it tortures me
the more sublime of my colors crack so less elegantly afterall
I'm so ashamed of my suffering and...
baby I don't feel good
I miss you like I actually had your heart
if I'm dying in a cocoon maybe I'll emerge without this dust, less pale
...I smile all kinds of maniacal.
if I could bitch slap migraines I would bitch slap them for all those that suffer from them...at the most inconvenient times...they just tear through my skull until I feel blind.
in unrelated news...something rather minor happened yesterday. I say minor because I don't think he meant harm, but tucker's father touched me inappropriately...and it made me feel very uncomfortable...I reacted very swiftly to it. it brought up a lot of emotions within me I thought were six feet underneath ever being brought to my conscious again...something from a few years ago that a lot of heads don't really know happened to me cause its so chic to have issues isn't it? I just somewhat repressed that it even happened...and all this time I've been so proud I got over it so quickly.
three and a half years ago, summer vacation from howard university. I had just gotten these doc marten looking lace up leather boots that stopped directly below my knees...I used to be a bit on the gothic side. black lipgloss (actually I still kinda dig that), lots of black clothing (to this day I still have a hard time buying any bright shit, and I wouldn't wear white back then unless I was absolutely forced to, probably woulda worn black to my debutante ball if I could've gotten away with it), I've been pierced everywhere thats popular besides my yes-yes spot and eyebrow...never got into the music though. imagine that, a hip hop goth. the guys I used to kick it with called me alternagirl. infact every nickname I've ever had a guy gave to me, including the one I eventually adopted fully as a name...honey...eventually changed to h-u-n-y, but you knew that. anyhow, I'd still wear those boots but one of the straps broke. one day I'll get them fixed.
so three and a half years ago I was a little less than halfway to twenty...there was one night drastically different from the nights that surrounded it which had consisted of laughing with my girls, club hopping, getting numbers, spending three hours perfecting mac lipglass and body glitter. a cousin of my friend goldie, who was a former fuck buddy of my girl tosha and current best friend of my former flame jonah, wanted to meet me upon hearing my situation with jonah had been declared over and done with. he heard I was a cute light brown thing...taller than your average girl...thick...big ass...long legs..."chinky" eyes...nothing but a sum of body parts to so many hungry eyes for too much of my young adult life...sometimes I use(d) it to my advantage. the dichotomy of virgin mary and mona lisa. goldie's cousin's name was nate. I put on my boots made for walkin and me and tosha went to their aunt's house supplying the ever-necessary bottle of alcohol.
after 2 hours worth of playstation games, bacardi 151 and orange juice, over-intoxication dropped my guard as it tended to do and I found myself in a dark room on the floor...tricked into thinking I was being led to the bathroom, my stomach was so...queasy. nate had grabbed me around the waist real suddently, so I actually more or less fell and he was right there on top of me...telling me "I want to sex you". I felt some sort of subconscious guilt telling him no over and over like it was almost wrong for me as a female to deny a man what he wanted. too many chauvnistic influences molding my impressionable dome at that time maybe. I don't know how many ways there are to say no but I used at least 10 of them. he didn't hear, though, there was only the sound of his voice over mine..."I want you...c'mon you're going back to school soon we'll never see each other again, I wanna make you feel good, shorty, don't you wanna feel good come on you didn't wear that dress to just talk all night now did you..." he started pulling down my panties...I felt this wave of revulsion crawl all through me, I was petrified...until that point I'd been mad cocky, on some if a dude ever tried to rape me I'd be strong enough to at least get him off of me shit. but he was so much stronger than me and he was holding me down tight...he had positioned his legs so I couldn't close mine. I tried to, but not before I felt his uh...little buddy poking around against me down there...he was clumsy from the alcohol, uncoordinated, any other time he probably would've got it in me. by that time I was freaking out, desperate to get him off of me, my head hurt...I feebly used my last line of defense and said "we can't because theres not any condoms". kat actually grinned...and replied "yea, I already have one on."
at that point I just went APESHIT. something about the nerve of his presumptuousness.
he started pushing that thing against me again and I started screaming for him to get off of me, I think I went detox in 3 seconds flat...everything started moving stop/start...on some matrix-time shit, or like I was watching a film and every other frame was missing...like:
when the kid finally figured out I wasn't going to shut up, he pushed me away from him...
"fine, get the fuck out of my house then, BITCH"
I scooted, more like scurried away from him, pulled my panties up
I'm surprised I didn't throw up I felt so sickened
he grabbed my arm and yanked me into the main room, or maybe I ran
he was in my ear, GET THE FUCK OUT BITCH, I barely had the chance to get my CDs and my bag
tosha was already out the door...she was so confused...
me? I got THROWN out of the door and down the 12 stairs proceeding it
but not before he spit right on my face...my right cheek, right under my eye
I felt this hard, burning, huge knot of anger and tears building up in my throat and back up the stairs I went, pounding on the door...and everything started moving fast again. tosha tried to pull me away but I hadn't been able to get my boots...he opened the door again and threw them at me. I didn't even put them on, I just ran to the car and told tosha to take me home...all pathetic...teary black smudges all around my eyes where I'd put my make-up on so pretty a few hours before.
I never drank that irresponsibly around strangers again...come to think of it I'm not sure I wore those boots again either. I didn't tell all that many people what happened cause I never did dig feeling victim to anything, besides its not like he succeeded in his task. but the memory remains. in retrospect I wish I would've called the police, but many many accounts of my friends being raped had convinced me they'd fault me for wearing a short skirt and for being so drunk.
funny...two plus years I've had this site, and I've never been scared or hesitant to post about anything until now. but its time to let go.