Showing posts with label sexual assault poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexual assault poetry. Show all posts

12/11/15

What She Wanted - Topher Cusumano

She’s walking down the street in a pair of six-inch, red, patent leather heels.
She always wished she was taller.
She shaves off her eyebrows and paints them back on.
She’ll be the first to tell you she enjoys the attention—
She’s okay with that.

‘Damn, I wanna fuck this girl,’
he thinks to himself as he follows her home,
the Boston streets slowly becoming narrower,
fewer streetlights scattered in front of the old, brick row-houses,
thick, circular patches of light surrounded by shadow.

He can hear her clicking as she walks.
She walks fast.
She knows where she’s going.
He could hear her clicking only half a block ahead of him.

“Damn, I wanna fuck this girl, yo.
Yo honey, with the fat ass!”
She stops.
She turns.
“Me?” she asks.
Softly, ladylike.
The voice he wants her to have.
The voice you can fuck, and still muffle with only one hand.

“Yeah you mommy—
You wanna come home with me tonight?
You looking real good, girl—
I wanna fuck that ass of yours real good, girl.”

“Me?” she asks again.
“You wanna fuck… me?”

She wears her tits like panties,
She’s got tits built for warfare, this girl.
She’s a battleship, unsinkable by nature.
Scars from girlhood across her thighs,
Wears short skirts so they wonder where she’s been.
She’s been… everywhere.

She walks back toward him.
“Yeah that’s right mommy.
You know what you want.”

And she does.
She knows exactly what she wants.

“You wanna fuck me?” she asks.
They’re face-to-face now.
She notices how dead his eyes are.
She knows how many girls he’s seen ripped apart,
Lying under him.

“You wanna fuck me?”
“Yeah mommy.”
She remembers fourteen.
“You wanna fuck me?”