The water coming from the shower head
is  cleansing
yet burning
and i put it all the way up
so that i can prepare myself for hell.

i wasn't prepared for an attempted killing.
I was wearing a low cut shirt that said "I ****** your girlfriend"
and even after assuring him that my clothing wasn't meant to mean anything, he tried to killed me anyways.
I was a little drunk
He came after me still.
I wasn't carrying  pepper spray.
I didn't make it clear to the criminal that i had feelings
that i wasn't consenting him to **** me.
It's logic isn't it?
Who consents for someone to try to **** them?

Now replace all forms of **** with ****.
i wasn't prepared for an attempted ****.
I was wearing a low cut shirt that said "I ****** your girlfriend"
and even after assuring him that my clothing wasn't meant to mean anything, he tried to **** me anyways.
I was a little drunk
I wasn't carrying  pepper spray.
I didn't make it clear to the criminal that i had feelings
that i wasn't consenting him to **** me.

2-8% of ****** go to jail.
Despite the mounds of evidence against them.
No one say someone was murdered because they "asked for it" or "knew the risks"
Why should i have to dictate my life over the fear of potentially being abused.

Does it scare you when you decide that you want to write poems for a living
Yet sometimes you can’t even finish a sentence.
When your ideas all come back to cliches
And ‘your whole heart’ wants to ‘learn to live with the intent to be alive’
But your brain just wants to quit and maybe move on to something easier
And less emotionally draining like physics.
Does it scare you when youve paid thousands of dollars to learn to do something
Everyone knows you cant teach.
and you still can’t finish your sentence.

Why did you keep your love letters hidden up inside your brain
We both know you were going to throw them out anyways.

Stuggling with something that is not yours to struggle with is difficult. The shortness of breath whenever I try to understand is uncalled for. The tightness in my stomach when I try to write about you is not mine, unexplainable. You did not try to **** me. You did not confide in me. You probably didn’t even think about me. But I think about you. I think about you in a jail cell. I think about you, thinking about what happened. I think things that make me bend over backwards, that make me swallow my tongue, that make me shake. To be truthful, I wonder more than I think. I wonder if you feel alone, I wonder if you even remember. I wonder if defending you is even worth it, because last thing I heard from the internet is that detachment disorder means you never cared about any of us. That it could’ve been me. I could’ve been killed. That you probably didn’t even think twice about it. I wonder if you’ll want me to write to you. I wonder if you’ll be upset that i’m going to your trial. I wonder why. Such a stupid question to answer an already unjustified feeling. Why. People loved you, people wanted to be around you, people wanted you to be happy. Why. You always used to talk to me, you listened you were sympathetic, you cared. Why. Thats what they do Emma, Thats why they’re sick because they know how to manipulate good people. Why. You aren’t bad, you aren’t crazy, you’re hurt,  and you’re alone. Why. I have dreams about you, that you’ve come back, that there was a mistake. Why do I miss you, it probably could’ve been me.

“I want that one” I exclaim pointing to the unicorn on the bottom shelf. I choose this one because she seems sad because all she’s ever seen was peoples feet. I pick her because maybe no one else will buy her because she’s at the bottom shelf and taller people wont even see her. She is soft and white and has cotton candy pink horns, hooves and bows around her neck.
“It looks cross-eyed” my brother Charlie observes in a critical way that night at dinner. He’s just upset that he didn’t get to pick anything because it isn’t his birthday. It doesn’t matter though, the new member of my stuffed animal collection is named Sparkles, and nothing anyone says will change that she is my new best friend.
After dinner everyone goes to walk the dog and I bring Sparkles, because it would be silly to leave her home by herself. We drive down the road and pretend to have tea on the beach. To my happiness, everyone sits in a circle. Sipping on tea and complimenting each other on clothes we aren’t wearing, food we aren’t eating and things we didn’t do, I’m surprised that even Charlie is partaking. The sun begins to set and we begin to pack up, or rather my Mother and Father pack up while Charlie holds Sparkles by the scruff of her neck and threatens to throw her in the bushes.
“Sparkles is gonna get lost Em, too bad you cant catch me” he cries running towards the thick brambles.
“Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting her!” I screech after him, desperatly trying to overcome his head start. But i’m too late. By the time I get to him he is already preparing to throw her into the prickers.
“NO!” I yell as I watch Sparkles get launched into the 8 foot tall bush of thorns.
I shove Charlie into the bush, which results in cuts all up his arms and back.
“Emma,what are you doing?!” my parents exclaim coming at the sound of Charlies cries.
“He threw Sparkles”
“Thats never an excuse for pushing” they scold.
“But..Spark”
“No Emma, you should have thought of that, we have to go fix Charlie” im cut off
They don’t understand. Sparkles made it so that everyone drank tea together, and stood for the small things to be noticed. She was my best friend, we were both small things standing up to big people. Of course they don’t understand. Big people don’t know about small people problems, they only know about fixing what has been broken. I want to rewind to when we all were talking about the fantasies of castles and secret twin siblings, where we were all small people for a minute.