So it was the end of the night.
And folks still wanted to hang out. Somehow I got talked into going to another night spot that was lowkey and quiet. There was a fun group of about 6 of us. We met up. He was with me. He hadn't secured a room for the evening, which I was particularly hoping he had done. We hung out and cracked jokes for another couple of hours and suddenly, it was the wee hours of the morning.
We dispersed. He was still with me. I had to get him to a room. It was about 2 AM in the morning. He suggested staying with me due to it being so late and check ins and leave out times and blah blah, blahhhhh........End result was I brought him back to my house. Same attitude. But I knew what to expect. Especially after drinks were involved. He went and laid in my bed. I went and took a shower. A looooong shower. I mean, I was probably in the shower for about an additional hour. My hot water furnace-thingy was the shit ! By the time I left out of the bathroom in total, he was snoring so loud that I didn't even need to tip toe.
I dressed in a long, dark tshirt, a bra, some panties and some night pants that stopped at the kneecaps. I slid in the bed like a feather on the creep. I laid flat on my back and just as I closed my eyes, he rolled over and put his arm around me. Despite having been in the throws of REM, it was as if his energy detected mine the minute it came into the room. He turned his body towards me. I turned on my side, giving him my back. In my mind, in MY perception of the world, of life and of this moment, this was my denial of advances. He instead saw that as my ass wanting to be warmed up. He started rubbing my body and had closed our body contact to zero degrees of separation.
In this moment I thought really quickly; do I give in, like I have often done in the past, even though I have not been interested in sex all day? Or do I stand my ground? I chose to stand. I expressed plainly and clearly that sex was not something I was interested in tonight. I remember that. He somehow interpreted what I was saying, coupled with my body language and full dress as me needing to be physically convinced.
He proceeded to roll me over and climb in between my legs. I mentally became defeated. That quickly, my ground collapsed beneath me and I felt as though nothing I would say would allow what I WANTED, which was no physical contact/sex, to occur. It has always been this way. I have always felt like saying no meant nothing to the men I was saying it to because I either put myself in a faulty situation out of pure spaciness or because I just didn't deserve to say no. So, I said nothing as he began to take my knee length night pants down and proceeded to give me head. I had tried keeping my knees tightened and locked but he easily insisted otherwise.
I just turned my head to the side with tears falling as I heard my poems spinning out of word control. Who was this person laying here? This could NOT be the poet everyone swears is dope. I knew the head was all a set up. And like I thought, it was.
After he thought he won my body over, he sat up, put on a condom and climbed inside of me as if it were what I was created for. He took his time, alternating between slow and medium strokes to faster ones that I hoped if I ad-libbed with, would give us a quick ending. It did not. I laid there, feeling lifeless and less a woman, with tears streaming....and I wrote a poem. In my head, a poem began......
"i am so tired of being men's doormats....
tired of letting them mop my back with muddy ass shoes
Why did I deserve this ? Not just on this night, but in my life and times? Why did I deserve to end up in these situations or to know the people who would treat me with such disdain for my womanhood? He kept stroking and laid his weight on my body; his face feeling like it was tearing into my neck.
I was so disgusted to hear his inhales and feel his exhales.
".....i'm exhausted, from defending my right to say no.
i shouldn't have to do this"
"..most men would rather fuck my feathers lose one at a time and i use my voice as invisible please do not enter me tape
...but they wanna go under it anyway"
After what felt like eternity and a false hope for an ending, he requested I get on top of him. I obliged. Still in tears. In my dark bedroom, on my bed. MY bed. I rode him, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible when I heard the metaphor in my head:
" ...i rode him like a 1000 year old corpse,
hips dripping with disgust"
....when it was finally over, i got off of him and laid back in my original sneak space on the left side of the bed. "What is it you were saying again?, he said."
I created an entire poem out of those exact lines and others the next day.
I never spoke to him again.
I never even understood what happened that night.
I went on hiatus for awhile. I changed my name while there.
I straightened my shoulders,
started back performing and tried to forget anything that would affect me from that night when my NO was turned into a YES in a defeated consent.
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