Locker Room Talk

I woke up to your hands around my throat,

saying, “Baby, baby,

say my name,

say you love me.” 

I couldn’t breathe. 

I couldn’t remember walking to the elevator.

I couldn’t remember getting to your room.

I couldn’t remember taking my clothes off.

I blamed myself for how it happened,

because I was the one drinking.

I woke up with you inside me,

so I thought it was already too late to say “no.”

You left no bruises,

you left no scratches,

but you left a scar the size of your claws

inside of my soul

that no time can erase. 

I remember your name, 

I remember your room number,

I remember your daughters’ names.

But I don’t remember 

saying “yes” or saying “no.”

We live in a society

where men think they are entitled to getting what they want.

Whatever they desire, we are here solely for them.

We as women are told the vile descriptions of sexual acts

are just “locker room talk”

and told not to worry – it’s just boys being boys.

But we are strong.

We are beautiful.

We are humans

and deserve to be treated as such.

I know I wasn’t.

And that needs to change.

Feature illustration by Aria Feliciano, @classychassiss.