but how do i explain this to you?
that the first time someone pulls your legs
apart, they may not ask you for permission.
there may not even be any words at all.
it will hurt and you will close your eyes
and the stars will glide across the sky above you
and you might want to die.
the backs of your knees will be sore
from being pressed up against the rough
seat of the car.
it will be fast. it will not be tender.
your wrists will crack under his pressure
and like this you will remain,
like an insect in a glass case.
he may never touch your face.
there will be no apology, no glances
in your direction.
when he finishes, he will zip up his jeans
and shut the door behind him.
listen to me.
this may be your first time.
it may be your third.
it may be your tenth.
no matter which one it is, know it is not right.
this is wrong.
this is your body. these are your words.
no one has the power
to do this to you.
look him in the eye, hold up your chin,
and tell him,
you will not ruin me.
the moon will still rise in the sky
and the pine trees will still lose their needles.
winter will still come. the sheets on your bed
will remain tangled.
poetry will still be poetry.
you will survive this.
do not let him ruin you.