No one will speak of it
i found
letters i wrote
after i returned home with my body smelling of lubricant and latex
i wasn’t stupid enough
to think that this event at my young age would result in a new prefix
old man
blue man
sad man
found comfort in my skin,
so i let him bump up on my cervix
when i informed my sister of the occurrence she had the audacity
to shake her head
the next day she wrote “death before dishonor” on the blue walls above my bed
used black eyeliner instead of pen or dull, worn lead
i don’t remember his name. i don’t think he ever told me
he drove a red truck and resembled my uncle
dark skin
red truck
chubby child
he wanted to take me fishing.
nothing
nothing
nothing was caught that night
it didnt hurt like they say it do
it didnt feel good like i wanted it to
i just rose for a minute under that ink blue sky
and felt my bare body on the gravel as i waited for time to pass by....
no one can be dissapointed.
i was only 13
someone should have saved me.