Damned White T
It wasn’t supposed to rain today,
But it did.
I left my house in a white t-shirt,
Because I trusted the weather app on my phone.
The app said cloudy and 81,
I came home soaking and all alone.
I hurried home because my shirt that once covered me,
Had now become completely see through.
It wasn’t supposed to rain today;
It did.
This day was not supposed to end like this,
But here we are.
And men and women are not supposed to commit sexual assault,
But here we are.
I wasn’t supposed to drink tonight,
But I did.
I left with friends in a skin tight t-shirt,
Because I trusted them when they said it’d be fun.
My friends said one more drink,
I came home unable to walk myself through the front door.
The shirt that once covered me,
Was now being removed by a man with no self-control.
I wasn’t supposed to drink tonight;
I did.
This night was not supposed to end like this,
But here we are.
I, only conscious enough to feel,
And you, taking full advantage of feeling where you pleased.
People are not supposed to commit sexual assault,
But here we are.
The sun wasn’t supposed to rise this morning,
But it did.
I laid that night in nothing but my shame,
Because I believed as a female it was my fault.
He says he’s too drunk to remember,
I have begged God every night since to forget.
The hope I once had in the good of humanity,
Was now entirely removed by this absolute darkness.
The sun wasn’t supposed to rise this morning;
It did.
This morning wasn’t supposed to start like this,
But here we are.
I, only 24 hours ago, thought the world of this man.
Now I cannot understand how God looked at man and called him good.
God did not create his children to sexually assault others,
But here we are.
There should be no rape in 2017,
But only a month in,
And here we are:
Now using technology such as Facebook Live to publish 3 hours of assault,
As if rape is now a retweetable, likable and favorable offense.
I must take a pause here because I am overwhelmed with disgust…
The hardest part is,
I know the man who assaulted me has not thought of that night since,
And I relive that night every time it rains.
I couldn’t exactly tell you why,
Perhaps it is weather depression,
Or maybe its my period.
But maybe it’s the fact that I can remember the day I wore a white t-shirt in the rain,
And I remember how completely naked and alone you left me.
And I can remember the cold and the darkness.
And I can remember the guilt and the shame.
And I think to myself, it is improper to share these stories,
And so I hurry home each time it rains,
Because the pain is to much to hide when my t-shirt is completely see through.
And this is one shirt that I have been told to let no one see through.
This is one shirt that I have been told to hide,
To forget about,
To forgive and move on with my life.
But the rain always comes back…
And it is the one thing that never fails to remind me
Of my damned white t-shirt.
I am not about to tell you to dance,
But I am going to tell you to rise above the rain.
Rise above being a victim,
And become a victor.
Don’t let the world win,
And don’t let storms keep you from wearing your heart on your sleeve.
I am going to tell you that it is not weak to speak.
It is not inappropriate to share your story.
If sexual assault makes someone uncomfortable,
Than praise God,
Because comfortability is not a luxury that a culture of rape can afford.
I am going to tell you that there is no greater strength than to take the knife that someone stabbed in you,
and use it to cut the bondages of someone else who is still tied in shame and fear.
So for the love of God,
For the love of others,
And for the love of self,
Tell your stories.
In fact,
Shout them from rooftops.
Shout them loud enough,
So when we say that men and women are not supposed to commit sexual assault,
They wont.
And whisper them soft enough,
So that when we say it is possible to Rise Up,
We will.
