Her Story
But I didn’t cry
I refused to cry
when I listen to
the story
of a million objections
thousands of no’s
that were lost in lustful
battles to get her damn
jeans off
I refused to cry
when her fear
spiked in the pit
of her stomach
when a man called out
his intentions at her
of “baby come here”
I didn't cry when
she had to hold
onto her life
with the handle
of a small knife
hidden in her jacket
as she walked down
the shadowy side of town
hoping and praying
she didn’t have to use it
Or the fact that
her brother begged
her to buy pepper spray
not knowing it
was too late
because she trusted
her friend
I cried when
I went to bed
to scream into a pillow
because the thousand of stories
she tells
is my story
And I did cry
I refuse
to lay down
quiet my voice
and most importantly
of all
watch her
story repeat
again