he ran his fingers down my spine

and i felt my body shake with anything but anticipation

there was no love in his kiss

his burning hands wound tightly around my wrists

with his angry breath hot on my neck

he whispered into my ear

“you know you want it”

"trust me"

"stop" didn't mean a thing to him

i was too paralyzed to let out a scream

too afraid to even put up a fight.

and you're rolling your eyes thinking

“not another damn rape poem"

this is not just another damn rape poem

this is not just another damn rape.

these rape poems will not cease

until we see the end of rape itself

these rape poems will not cease

until we stop justifying them

until we stop defending them 

"boys will be boys"

but a woman's body is an object ripe for the taking.

there will be more damn rape poems

until the word "no" does not have to be explained to you

until we don't have to carry our keys like daggars when we walk alone at night

until enjoying a drink no longer means "take me upstairs"

until we can bare our flesh without being called a "slut"

until we can cover up without being called a "prude"

until what we wear no longer determines whether or not we are "asking for it"

until we stop coddling the rapist because he "had such a bright future"

until we stop telling the victim it was her own fault.

so yes, dear reader

i'm sick and tired of all these damn rape poems too

i hope this is the last rape poem anyone will ever need to write.