nice guy

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.

A stairwell.

One, two, three flights.

I count the steps -

Thinking about how to get him to stop without

Being mean.


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?

Home. Please.

I just want

To go



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.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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