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That Night...

by Christina Banks 3 years ago in sad poetry
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Feelings never forgotten

I have a small vagina.

I mean look at me.

I didn’t even hit 100 lbs until I was 18, which was an accomplishment.

Every pound I can keep on means the world to me, because then you can’t

see my ribs as clearly, something I’ve always been embarrassed about, but

you liked that.

You liked how tiny my waist was.

It was the indentation where you would hold me if I was riding on top.

You would shake me like I was a snow globe.

My feeling where the flakes inside floating around not knowing how to

escape, but bounded by the glass.

After you stopped shaking me,

After I took the walk of shame past your roommates to the bathroom,

After I sat on the toilet feeling disgusted with myself for letting my body be

ripped apart.

I returned, you were asleep, and I stood,

Lifeless, as if I was just treated like a piece of meat that did not matter.

I would come home from work being completely exhausted and ready for

bed, but you had other plans.

“I don’t think I want to have sex tonight,” not confident enough to just say no.

“What? You’re not even going to let me try?!”

Alright, so let’s play this question out:

If I didn’t want your slobbery kiss on my unenthusiastic lips, would you keep

going?

If you started to reach under my shirt, moving towards my back to try and

impress me with your ability to unhook my bra, would you keep going?

If you slowly moved your hand into my pants, and I said no, would you keep

going?

If you took off my underwear and put your face between my thighs, even

though I didn’t have the strength to say no anymore, would you keep going?

If you finally put your penis inside of me after all the verbal and nonverbal

communication cues I gave you, would you still keep going?

See, you would keep going. ..

You hadn’t had the opportunity to cast your spell on me to lose my voice yet.

You just needed to get me horny enough, or scared enough to stop talking.

Because at that point, I am not saying no anymore.

Then in a blink of an eye, there is a body on top of me that I am too weak to move.

And I knew that.

That’s why I would say no before you even had the chance to start.

I thought if I said no early, maybe I would still have enough willpower in me,

enough life in me.

Until I didn’t have control over my body.

Until there was a war waging inside my head of me saying no or just letting

it happen to please him so he could get his nut off before bed and have a

good night sleep, that’s the best kind of sleep he would tell me.

I just wanted the voices to stop.

One time I didn’t shave for two weeks.

I wanted to see what would happen.

“Can you shave? Then I’ll go down on you.”

I use to think it was weird how he rarely shaved, yet I was expected to give

head every time.

Now I don’t shave any part of my body in hopes of finding a man who isn’t

afraid of hair or being told no.

Thank you.

sad poetry

About the author

Christina Banks

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