It’s different than a period
Dripping down your thigh -
That’s from me: that’s mine.
Not the boy at the party who
Let you feel safe -
Made you think: maybe he’ll take me on a date.
Who walked you home but stopped by his place first:
Let’s go up for a minute.
Alone at 1am.
His apartment is full of college -
A tiny cell with tile floor and hollow furniture.
Beer, a big TV and socks -
Feigning adulthood with nothing to care for.
He offers Bud, a joint: to loosen me up.
I know this.
I say no. Thanks.
I watch him get buzzed - fog me out.
Maybe if I stay a little longer he’ll walk me home.
It’s not that far -
Maybe I can just go -
Maybe he won’t be mad -
Maybe he’ll still like me.
That first kiss is the worst.
It’s an opening: difficult to take back.
Just a kiss and I can go.
He’s under my shirt now.
I’m pulling away but the more I pull
The closer he gets.
Can’t you tell I’m not kissing you back?
I’m afraid if I say No he’ll hate me.
The door is over there, right? It still exists -
He’s a nice guy, he’ll understand.
But this nice guy is trying to get
His hands up my dress now
And I’m looking at that door while he gropes me -
Envisioning what’s the on the other side:
A hallway lined with fluorescents lights.
One, two, three flights.
I count the steps -
Thinking about how to get him to stop without
Because nice girls make people feel good.
Nice girls don’t argue -
Especially not with that nice guy who
Offers to walk them home.
My mind and my body are strangers.
There’s nothing I can do but ask to
Please use a condom.
He pulls out and I realize -
He’s taken it off.
I’ve never had cum inside me before.
He shuts the bathroom door and
I manage to find my underwear in the dark.
I can barely look at him when he catches me -
Where are you going?
I just want
I walk the whole way.
Step after step.
Not mine: His.
Like my body: Not mine.
Because nice girls don’t complain.
And I can feel this nice guy
On the inside of my thigh.