THE SOUL RAPIST

For months you switched me over,

Looking me straight in the eyes,

I said I was tired, I said I wasn’t in the mood,

But deeper and deeper you pushed,

You called it morning glory.

As clued up as I am on human rights, I never knew mine were invaded. My teachers always told me unconsented sex was rape, but come on, you were my rib, my boo boo. I’d never tell my friends you raped me, not that I saw it that way. We had sex regularly whether I wanted or I didn’t want it. You said I was yours and you mine, it felt so good knowing that you were my man, I mean I catered to your needs and yours to mine.

Do you remember the morning of valentines 2011. I was woken up by your cold hands rolling my body to corpse position. I murmed a disapproval sound and you said “come on baby it’s my gift to you”.  I responded saying “not now please I’m tired and still sore from last night”, you got on top of me and grind your way through my dry swollen passage. Till this day I fear sexual intercourse, I don’t understand the pleasure people talk about. I foresee the pain before I consent to sexual activities.

“Women charge that acquaintance rape is the hidden crime; men complain it is hard to prevent a crime they can't define. Women say it isn't taken seriously; men say it is a concept invented by women who like to tease but not take the consequences. Women say the date-rape debate is the first time the nation has talked frankly about sex; men say it is women's unconscious reaction to the excesses of the sexual revolution. Meanwhile, men and women argue among themselves about the "grey area" that surrounds the whole murky arena of sexual relations, and there is no consensus in sight’’ (content.time.com).

One might think that acquaintance rape is not as ghastly a crime as street rape, and it should not be taken as seriously. This attitude sparks rage among some of us who carry scars received at the hands of men we know. It should make no difference if we shared a drink or a moonlit walk or even a passionate kiss. Acquaintance rape is not about a misunderstanding, it is not a communications problem, it is not about me having regrets in the morning for a decision I made the night before. It is not about a "decision" at all. Rape is rape, and any form of forced sex is a crime. Let’s not forget marital rape. Being married doesn’t make non-consensual sex okay. Wives do not belong to their husbands. Sex is not a “right” that goes with marriage. A woman does not give up her right to say yes or no the day she gets married. Sex should be based on respect, equality, consent, caring, and clear communication. No wonder, then, that the battles become so heated. When innuendo qualifies as rape, the definitions have become so slippery that the entire subject sinks into a political swamp. The only way to capture the hard reality is to tell the story.

Bang bang bang,

Your gun shooting into my skin,

A tear escapes the eye as I hold back the screams,

I count to ten trying to escape the moment,

But no,

You’re still thrusting on top of me.

‘You’re so tight’ you say,

Thinking it moves me.

Your ‘aaahhh’ relives me,

It means you’re done,

But so am I,

For a piece of my soul is gone.