Letter My Rapist Never Sent Me
by Cordelia David
I guess I still don’t get it
In the end, wasn’t it worth it?
You said you wanted to hang out
I made the obvious conclusion.
I am sorry I hurt you, I guess
that much I know.
I thought your no’s
were a tease
and a possible please.
You liked it when I kissed you
And you giggled when I pulled away.
The Rohypnol in your glass on the tray,
Was a gift, to make it easier on you.
So when I finally grabbed your hair,
golden strands curled ’round my hand,
and forced you to your knees
I didn’t mean for the carpet
to rub so coarsely on your skin.
And I guess I’m sorry you cried
I didn’t know you’d never tried.
When you told me, I thought you were joking
After all, everyone does this type of thing.
I was a skyscraper standing over you
Your pulse raced beneath my fingertips
As I squeezed your wrists
and your salty tears mixed well
with the cum and sweat trail
scarred on your lips.
And maybe I held a little too tightly
for purple pearls curled lightly
Around your too-thin wrists, bones
with their flimsy fabric torn apart.
And maybe I shoved a little too hard
When I tried to force your lips apart
But the blood looked so pretty slippin’
past the ripped clothing of your shirt.
When you finally managed to stand,
should I have walked you to the door, hand in hand?
Or let you walk away shamefully
as you did in the end?
Maybe I should have said thank you,
I never did get the chance
And for that I’m truly sorry.