Breathe- A Poem

Breathe, he said.

I do not want to breathe

I want to pull my pants up.


Your curfew isn’t until 10pm-

What’s your rush? he said.

My rush is your breath in my mouth

On my neck

Down my blouse.

My knee, your hand. 

My fist, your elbow. 

Nothing doing. 

Innocence had a curfew, too,

I guess. 

And time was up. 

If you have dealt with a sexual assault and you’re still struggling, get help. 

There is a lot of help in your area, I promise you. And therapists are standing by to listen and care about and for you.



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