I AM NOT FOR THE TAKING
We was cool bro.
All the laughs, playful punches,
The pretty pink Svedka bottle
You bought me when I beat you
At the bowling alley.
It was all a plot wasn’t it?
Meet her
Greet her
Appease her
Then,
Beat her.
Now, Cry yourself a river.
Sex with you?
Never would I ever.
Before you tried to rape me,
I imagined you a brother.
I. You put all your weight on me.
You’re just a brother undercover.
I died twice inside.
The mere sight of you
Made baby Clarissa cry.
I should have seen the signs.
How many times should
I scream “Stop!?”
I knew I couldn’t call no cops.
They would’ve came through
And blasted your brains,
Or threw you in the house of pain.
Then I would’ve been the one to blame,
For circulating black bodies
Into this damned system.
II. You stabbed my vagina with your stubby fingers.
You looked me right into the
Pupil of my eyes
And YOU we’re going to rape me
Like a plaything!
Did you not see,
Laying before you
More precious than gold,
A child of a King?
III. You forcibly kissed my succulent lips.
You hailed me a Queen
But treated me like a peasant.
You sold your eyes
To the devil for visors.
Hades awaits you.
Funny, you did everything
‘Cept take me on that mean ride
To hell.
Where women are traumatized,
Broken, distressed,
Suicidal, silenced.
IV. You bruised my velvety skin with your dreadful hands.
You stole from my cookie’s jar
And not enough “sorries”
In this lifetime can fix that.
You call yourself a rasta man?
BLASPHEMOUS MONSTER!
You betrayed my trust.
Now I Know:
Never confide in a man that
Can’t roll a blunt!
You Judas, you Brutus.
The curse of the based god
Shall come upon you.
V. You grabbed my locs.
Lies are believable when you reiterate
Them long enough.
“Calm down”
When your hand slipped under
My nightwear.
“You’re so freaky”
When I repeatedly
Punched you in the head.
“Stop it!”
When I screech
For you to get off me.
“Just give me a minute.”
A minute for your metamorphosis
As your locs turned into snakes.
Your eyes bulged outwards.
Saliva filled the corner of
Your mouth.
Johnny Maddog style.
VI. You pulled down your pants.
With no plans to wear
Protection,
And right before the pelvic thrust
I broke free,
Barely relieved,
Started having anxiety.
I was under attack,
now, by my own body.
And all I could conjure up
in that moment:
I was brutally not raped.
