Art

DONT TALK TO ME: a poem

he looked
I glanced
he took it fast
I said go slow
I told him no
another drink
I said I’ll go
another drink
I need to go
I just can’t think
long slow blinks
a blur
a stumble
Unsure
I fumble
outside it’s dark
too dark to walk
so I run
my fingers are numb
running past the bullshit
running past the comments
no it’s not a compliment
don’t talk to me bum ass bitch
you think you’re crazy motherfucker, I’M CRAZY TOO
no one wants to fuck with a crazy bitch, I know that to be true.
I run home with a fake limp, making weird sounds
The fact I have to do this when people are around.
The fact that a woman can’t hold her own ground
The fact that I’m running home acting like a damn clown, just because men be around?
DONT TALK TO ME BITCH one more block
I swear if he’s still following me I’ma kick him in the —-Or wait I found my mace
Mace him in his face BITCH get out my space, that’s right run AWAY.
I’m home. I’m home. I’m home, I’m HOME.
my heart’s in my stomach, yet my pulse is in my dome.
Untouched
I’m untouched but
I feel
dirty.
I’m home.
I’m safe.
I’m safe?
Don’t talk to me.

Image courtesy of Meenakshi Parashar