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3am

It is dark and the air feels electric. I'm tugged awake by an unknown force and brought into the world of the dead; the snoring, spasming, drooling, dead. I bask in the utter stillness and soak the silence into my bones, letting it consume me.

3a.m. found me again and its taking me to the gas station for smokes. I can't see the stars but I know they're there. I walk under streetlights and watch dust particles rise and fall and dance around the citys litter.

Its a warm night and it smells like metal and sweat.

The bars are closing. The men are stumbling out. They are opening their mouths. They are shaming their mothers. "Hey baby! Wanna come home with a real man?" I quicken my pace, I fumble in my jeans, searching for anything sharp or pointed. "Why you walkin away!? Dont be rude!" my eyes frantically search the ground for a bottle, a brick, something, anything. My heart is in my throat and I cant swallow it. "Hey bitch! You're too skinny anyway!" Blood is pumping so loudly in my head it's hard to think straight. I will my breath to even and my heart to cease its pounding and I realize I can't hear their laughter anymore, their footsteps are fading into the distance. They've moved on, but to where? I feel sick in my stomach as I wonder, "Are they going to rape someone thicker than me?"

I walk head down, guilt sick and pride shattered. As I walk, I fantasize of a dark street where men fear to tread at night for fear of women. A street where men scurry like frightened mice passed long curvy shadows and duck down at the sight of groups of ladies. They'll carry mace in their shorts, just in case.

I reach the familiar pavement and fluorescent lighting of 7-11. I mumble at the cashier for a "pack of camels, please" and toss her my I.D. I avoid eye contact. I would hate for her to see the fear and anger in my eyes, no doubt she would recognize it. She tells me to "be safe out there" and I swear I heard sincerity in her voice.

My converse hit the pavement outside and I tear open my pack of cigarettes. With shaking hands I bring a stick to my lips and light it. A thick, deep puff of smoke soothes my shrieking nerves and pats my proverbial back, calmly reassuring me that "everything is going to be okay." I suck it down like its going out of style and start the walk home.

I dont cry until I make it up the stairs and through the entryway, home with a locked door between me and anyone who would do me harm. An angry sobs rips itself from my throat and chest and it doesn't stop. I cry for her. For the woman who was raped tonight. Even if it wasn't me, it could have been. It has been before. I sink to the floor. I sink passed the floor. Passed time. I am little and I am helpless and I am sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you, I didn't know how. I'm sorry I couldn't stop them, I'm sorry I never stop them. I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8d477w/comment/dxk97ml

Posted Apr 18, 2018, 12:46 PM UTC

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