Parker Stillwater

Did you know You
remind me of him?
Get ready, friend –
it’s about to get grim.

Like when I ask you to leave
You refuse and instead,
methodically, You
distract me-
I’m annoyed you still call yourself my friend!

This is one that probably won’t land well-
I’ll be honest,
it’s the reason many of us will never tell
about the men we call teacher, colleague, neighbor
and whose advances compel
us to fawn and fail to uphold the boundary
We made clear once, or twice, or three times;
the one You so eagerly
step over without second thought
of my needs
or even getting caught
Red-handed like a raping thief.

We were friends for the briefest moment-“Friends who’ve
had sex!” You so eagerly correct.
Fuck it,’s men like you who always refuse
to heed my no, even when it’s direct.

Because why would you hold onto such
a really bad go of it?
The one where it wasn’t your touch-but his touch!
that helped me get thru it.

That’s right, I dissociated when I heard
You say, “is this what you want?”
I don’t care if it sounds absurd –
it’s rapist energy that causes you to Flaunt

our heated mistake we made in a moment-
and let’s both be clear,
it was just a brief as fuck moment –
One whose impact is far more severe

than you give a damn
to note or acknowledge,
lest you be less man
than my rapist in college.

Because raper energy is far more pervasive
than we all would like to admit.
It’s why my open retelling can feel so invasive
to those who quietly remain complicit

in a culture – be it Studio or home –
where the men have all the control.
In him, and HIM alone,
they grant permission for violence untold.

And no this isn’t an example of when
my past takes over the present.
I’m aware and fully understand
what you did without lament.

You said no, when I said go; in fact,
You came on so very strong.
And because I’m integrated, but not fully in tact
after childhood rape that went on too long,

You get to walk right over my boundary-
because You’re really turned by the fawn
in danger I learned to fully embody,
and like with him, wait You out until dawn-

until You’ve finally had your fill.
Which thankfully, with you, lasted less than five minutes.
And even though I could’ve chosen to kill,
I acted like I was into it-

because that’s what happens when you’re a survivor.
Sometimes you find yourself in harms way-
only because a once Teacher turned Traitor –
just like my father – good at the wordplay

of telling me about what all the bad men
scheme and dream up in their minds.
Then, insisting you’re a different blend-
but you’re just a raper of a different kind!

The kind who uses his power as Teacher
to take for years until it’s convenient;
turn the charm on, like our friendship’s a keeper-
so, excuse me if my words are not remotely lenient.

Because you took from me without giving
any amount of the same back in kind.
Sure, I was willing-but perhaps, just reliving
an old dynamic I was groomed to keep top of mind.

So, this is me identifying the truth
in both the present and the past –
I don’t care if they call me uncouth
because it’s my body and boundaries through which you all blast

when you call me crazy or unhealed-
like you know the first thing about
how torn, bleeding insides feel
or how to hide them without even a pout!

But I do! and I must declare
I got really good at smiling through gritted teeth,
at growing up the center of stares
from strangers dying to get underneath

my body, so they could pull over
my eyes the wool and their weight;
crush my hopes that every lover
won’t turn their acts of kindness in for rebates

they claim to have over my body,
simply because they paid a kind word-
is this the world we’ve built together, so shoddy,
so primed to leave victims like me unheard?

Because a victim is what You created
when you walked right over my no
and overstayed, then baited, and waited
until I was tired and speaking real slow –

like an unconscious, unwilling participant,
but just awake enough to gaslight
when in the morning the quiet anticipant
She embodied, seeing how it wasn’t right

of You to stay and pressure sexual contact
just because I stopped saying no-
Thats’ rape culture! I’m not sorry, it’s fact.
And that’s why I’ve chosen to go

out quietly without ever confronting
your face – I’d love to cut up with a knife –
because you just made the future for me more daunting
and you deserve to remember this all of your life;

just like I will. Trust me, I didn’t forget
we had sex on that stupid long night
when I said no, but you didn’t listen and instead, let
your libido forget was right-

fully mine – to ask you to leave, to stop,
get out – that’s mine to choose
any fucking moment! It’s my right to drop
a no and not be refused!

I pray to god for the sake of your daughter,
and other women you’ll take advantage of,
stop using admiration & attention as food for fodder
and realize your inherent position above

the women that call you teacher, preacher, neighbor.
Because no matter what you’d rather we believe,
every time to push past no, you’re a traitor!
It’s our autonomy you cause us to grieve.

So, hear me now, even though I’ll never
actually say any of this to your face.
No, I’ll quietly bow out, let you sever
this connection because it’s no longer the case

that I’ll let you hug me, touch me in any
capacity- NO, that’s done for me!
Because real teachers, of them there are plenty,
who truly abide by boundaries.