In response to the poem I emailed my therapist, she asked
.
if I liked it, if I liked writing
about how his hands and mouth
hurt me, how he took my breasts
in his palms, said stretch marked out,
how he dismissed my complaints
of workplace sexual harassment,
saying, you always think someone is looking
at your tits
when he first saw them
his ecstatic laughter broke the night,
overcome, speechless
until
your body makes me feel like a rich man
until
i don’t deserve this view
was he lying
just so he could stay?
when I tell people what he said about my body,
my sex, the way he complained the first time
he shoved his cock in my asshole,
my inability to take it,
I wonder if the listener pictures me naked,
the soft, full curves
of my breasts, looks
for what’s wrong with them
or maybe it’s obvious:
what’s wrong with them
what’s wrong with them?
why did he stay if i am so ugly?
Why did he stay?
What do you see here,
when you look at me?
Callie S. Blackstone writes both poetry and prose. Her debut chapbook sing eternal is available through Bottlecap Press. Her online home is calliesblackstone.com.
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