Whiskey Dick, a story about the cycle of abuse and how it influences rape.

[ I'm sure everyone still remembers the "Me Too" movement on Facebook. If you're strictly a GR person, it was a massive act of standing up in the face of rape. "Me Too" meant it had happened to you too, and the amount of responses made the issue very clear. I abstained even though I could speak because I felt like two words was not enough. I could speak volumes and two words felt like we were being cheated. So here's my "Me too", one of them, and I hope you take the time to read this, and I hope you are brave enough to comment your thoughts. I would love to talk. ]

Whiskey Dick

It was my birthday.
I had a wonderful night
with a wonderful friend
& his sauna
& his bed.

I left around midnight.
Checked my phone in the driveway
& you had blown it up.

“Help”
You coherently portrayed a need to get away.
“I have nowhere to go.”

(Note: No Typos)

“Whoa… okay, uhh, I have to work
in the morning but you can crash
with me. I do need to sleep.”

“Are you home?”

“Soon. I’ll text you” … “Let yourself in.
I’m down in my bed.”

Big mistake, missy.
you invited him past every barrier—
man-made check-points
& all the way into your bed.

When he walked right in,
I knew he couldn’t even see
my bedroom straight.
My first thought was fuck…
he drove here & now I can’t let him leave.

I should’ve let you leave.
I should’ve let you burn on your own,
because then, you got in my bed
& I reminded you I needed to sleep
but you didn’t hear me,
you just grabbed me
& began pulling at my clothes
& I pushed your hands away
& you pulled at my clothes
& I shoved your hands away
& then you shoved back with
just enough force to make yourself known.
So, I raised my voice—just enough for you
but maybe it should’ve been for a roommate—
but, you weren’t there.
So, I still tried…
& I tried
& I tried
& I tried to not get violent
& I was scared, so inevitably
I had to just give in.

Instantly, I was pissed.
Fine! Take it!
But that didn’t change
the way it felt
when you tried to get it in,
that didn’t change what it dug up
when you shoved your hand in first
& then you tried with your cock…
& you tried
& you tried
& you tried
& you tried
but I was saved, in a way, by
Whiskey Dick.
But you still tried
& I lied defeated
I let you
because what if I did try to fight?
What if this whiskey dick got pissed?

I didn’t know you that well /
I had never seen you like this.

So I let you exhaust yourself
& eventually I fell asleep.

You were gone when
the alarm clock beeped.
I still went to work,
looking forward to keeping my head down,
but when I walked in the door
I found a birthday cake
& smiles
& hoorays
& I cried
over my birthday cake—
in front of all my co-workers/
people who have no idea why I cried.

Then I ran outside
& my boss followed
& I asked to be let go for the day
& he said okay
& then some bitch
ate my fucking birthday cake.

But. I need to change gears,
because sometimes there are
two sides to this coin:

You apologized but didn’t know why.
I had to remind you,
but you could only remember
walking in
& that was it.
You listened but I didn’t
entirely fill you in.

I just forgave you
Like my offenders in high school,
but maybe
I should’ve helped you.

Because that wasn’t you.

You adore, spoil, nourish,
& worship women.

That was the whiskey.
That was a blacked-out
man desperate to self-destruct.

I remember how much
she abused you.
The girlfriend at home
you couldn’t go to.

She was so far
in your head, the look on your face
when she would text
was really hard to watch,
so I still saved you—
I saved you from that,
at the very least.