Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
Ashamed to admit it, yet it is the truth, I slept with my rapist several times after he raped me on two separate occasions. The first rape happened in NYC during a photo test shoot soon after I arrived to begin my modeling career. I was 20-years-young, full of hope Read more
Redemption was in order, but his sins outweighed her ability to forgive. Two friends, turned strangers, once lovers, now hardly knew each other on that night. They were growing further apart in the house they shared together for years. His own reflection sickened him, and the sight of her brought Read more
It was the first time you didn’t fall for my smile, the one you realized wasn’t real. You took me home and tugged me in, You kissed my forehead and held my hand. I fell asleep crying. I woke up and you were still there, No answers to the burning Read more
Five-year gap It could have been ten, I was so young then Just sixteen, you were just ‘old’ Policing my youth, like you always knew better Me and Molly, your mall rats We partied late into the night and brought you coffee at sunrise You scolded our morning-after-those Wildberry Vodka Read more
He had already locked the front door so she couldn’t escape, couldn’t open her cage.
Perhaps he uttered a prayer to whomever murderers utter prayers too. Perhaps he gave last rights to himself, took communion, had a last meal, said goodbye to his mother, brother, sister, children, the cats.
The town was Show Low
named for a poker hand
way up in the White Mountains
of wild western Arizona
how very ironic
we met in a poker room
at the Dancing Eagle
The most beautiful moment I had in college (aside from the day I bought myself a vibrator or learned to make poached eggs) was when I went to the lake, picked up a flat stone the size of a driver’s license and threw it. It skipped four times, just like that. I didn’t need CJ to show me how to do it, reveal any special secret to me. In the end, I didn’t need him, didn’t want him, at all.
Then, in a wine soaked haze, I realize what the worst part about this is.We are always on guard against the men in the streets. The ones who whistle while we walk. We guard against the men at the bars, whose smiles turn to snarls upon rejection. We guard against the men online whose thumbs could spell “slut” without help from their eyes. We are almost always on guard. We almost never feel safe.