fifteen.

the woods behind the church,
he led me there,
my mouth dry in both foreboding
and curiosity.
short-lived,
he pawed at my shirt, 
his mouth trying to consume me,
i felt sick and confused,
this is not-
this is not-
he pulled it out,
as if i should be impressed at the sight of this,
instead i grew sicker
panic, fear, 
a frantic need to run, 
yet my feet stood below me,
stupid and unmoving 
in the damp dirt. 
my eyes sought to see the lights of the church parking lot.
he said, 
"let's not tell"
as he roughly grabbed my breast,
i weakly agreed, 
already filled with shame.
we walked back in silence.
i later went home and cried on my bed
making sure not to make a sound.







**not to be alarmed, this is just a processing poem about something that happened to me a long, long time ago. no, the guy did not rape me. it was scary and gross, definitely unwanted and unasked for advances, but i lived with guilt and shame that this was all my fault because i agreed to go out there with him. not wise, but certainly not what i expected to happen to my 15 year old self either.  i am thankful that God did protect me from what could have been much worse. this experience gave me compassion and understanding for other girls and women who couldn't "just say no" or remove themselves quickly from a dangerous situation. it isn't that easy. it has given me grace and empathy for others. to listen and support without a critical ear. i got away that time. many women don't get that privilege. may we be there when they need us.