to me, and anyone else that needs it, from me.

---

I was taught from the moment I left my pink nursery that I was a collapsible paper doll,

light to hold,

easier to crumple

that as a woman, my worth lives secretly wrapped in lace and cotton panties

my fragility armored with pepper spray and mace,

they say one in ten,

one in six,

one in three women will be raped or sexually abused in their lifetime

now imagine each victim is an acrobat, her sanity a balancing act

our response is the unfailing safety net

we never expect to see her across the wire

you weren't just violated we tell her

you are an empty museum

a gutted monument to what use to hold so much worth

and with the best intentions we tell her to reclaim it

put a price tag on your rape and own it,

but don't stand too tall,

don't act too strong,

we will name you denial.

come back when you're ready to crumble like your bones are made of chalk

you may only laugh cutely or cry beautifully

so cry beautifully we will catch you, we are calling it theft.

as if he could pluck open your ribs like cello strings

pocket your innocence,

touch your body,

steal what makes your heart flutter,

and tack its wings to his wall.

another little girl lost, another six year old,

sleeping with her tinker bell wand on the nightstand and a kitchen knife under the pillow

because this time when he came into my bedroom uninvited he would leave bleeding.

some days you will feel dirty,

some weeks you remember just how hard it is to breathe in public

like your heartbeat is climbing to the attic of your throat only to suicide itself on the pavement but know this,

the person who did this to you is broken, not you.

the person who did this to you is out there somewhere choking on the glass of their chest,

it is a windshield and his heartbeat is a baseball bat,

regret this, regret this, regret this,

nothing was stolen from you.

your body is not a hand-me-down.

and there is nothing that sits inside you holding your worth,

nothing that can be seen or touched,

nothing that can be plucked from you to be left on that mattress,

and God I know it's hard to feel perfect because some ashtray of a man picked you to play his eden.

but I will not watch you collapse.