I Will Hack Through You

I wish I could hack you to pieces with a dull knife. Or be satisfied with how easily a sharp one slices through you. I want your blood on a garage floor I will never clean. I want your parents and friends on my side. I want them to know what you did to me, and what you took away. I want them to witness the blank stare my lovers know too well because you put it here. I want to rip your arms off myself, and I want you alive for it. I want your screams to ring painfully through my skull. I want my tears and your blood to mix a disgusting palette on my cheek. I want to swing at your groin with an axe, ungracefully and enthusiastically. I want to forget your face. I want to pop out your eyes with my thumbs. I want to burn all copies of your dissertation. I want to be the virus that eats it on internet servers. I want to bite off your fingers like baby carrots. I want to tear your ears off. I want to leave your mutilated body deserted.

I want a better world. I want boys to be taught to not rape, not for girls to be taught how to not get raped. I want there there to be non-violent accountability. I want you to learn and understand and finally know what you’ve done to me and beg my forgiveness. I want you to know that you do not deserve it. I want you on your knees in front of me (not fucking touching me) because you know you have done wrong. And then I want to walk away from you, with you physically intact, and me a little more healed for finally being known. Hopefully you’re more healed too.

You will contribute to making the world a better world by knowing what you’ve done and doing better, and I will contribute by not destroying you.