Part of me, is so disturbed by recent events, that part of me is moved to move words and form
my own opinions but it won’t change anything.
And that’s part of what fuels my rage and desire to grab them by the collar and say
what is wrong with you?
An entire country, giving undeserved empathy to some teen who thought that he could get away
with anything but got caught.
And I shudder, and the thought of hundreds of other girls that will never speak up.
They know what’s coming; this storm of shame and blame from a media that only aims to say
she was drunk, so she’s a liar, and it’s her fault the star athlete’s lives are over.
That clearly, she set herself up for rape when she lifted the plastic cup to her face and decided to
partake in part of being a teenager.
This part of me, is enraged. That I live in a place that think’s it’s ok to say raps isn’t a crime when
the victim made an “obvious mistake.”
That teaches it’s ok to take photos and forward to every half known name and publicly
humiliate, and then claim in court you weren’t a part of anything.
A witness. A bystander who didn’t stop to say hey this girls unconscious this isn’t ok.
And this part of me has to restrain from breaking down when I hear their names, anger boils
inside cracking up and down my spine as I’m brought back to a time, reminded of freshmen year.
Waking to the sound of tears that one of my worst fears had become a friends reality.
And 4 months later I packed to leave campus,
because he was walking past us like nothing fucking happened.
Sex without consent is a death sentence. Not in the law, but in your mind.
Trapped with thoughts inside, ageing over time like a pomegranate wine multiplying every time
something reminds you.
And it’s a stress that both male and female victims hide because of how our society has promised
to treat them.
Part of me, thinks more than anything, that everything needs to change.
We need to stop teaching don’t put yourself in bad positions, and start teaching, don’t rape.
It sounds like common sense but clearly isn’t from the news today.
And part of me, thinks this anger and frustration is a waste.
But part of me knows that’s to blame,
because if no one speaks up,
nothing is going to change.
Author Bio:
Nicole Jean is a young poet from New England, who believes that everything she writes is therapy in some way. She does not know when she began to write, but knows that no matter where her life takes her, through the many career paths that she’s followed, that they always lead her back to writing. Poetry for Nicole is not an escape from the world around her, but a magnifying glass pointed at the cracks on the road she walks. As the daughter to a woman who has overcome two brain surgeries and the complications that ensued, she has a strong belief in the power of women and their amazing capacity for strength and change in the world.
Nicole has a vocational certificate in computer programming, and is an editor for the Salamander literary journal of Le Moyne College. She writes for a personal online blog, and regularly appears in the Syracuse Underground Poetry Spot to read and preform slam poetry. When she’s not writing, Nicole engages her mind with photography, philosophy and art.
my own opinions but it won’t change anything.
And that’s part of what fuels my rage and desire to grab them by the collar and say
what is wrong with you?
An entire country, giving undeserved empathy to some teen who thought that he could get away
with anything but got caught.
And I shudder, and the thought of hundreds of other girls that will never speak up.
They know what’s coming; this storm of shame and blame from a media that only aims to say
she was drunk, so she’s a liar, and it’s her fault the star athlete’s lives are over.
That clearly, she set herself up for rape when she lifted the plastic cup to her face and decided to
partake in part of being a teenager.
This part of me, is enraged. That I live in a place that think’s it’s ok to say raps isn’t a crime when
the victim made an “obvious mistake.”
That teaches it’s ok to take photos and forward to every half known name and publicly
humiliate, and then claim in court you weren’t a part of anything.
A witness. A bystander who didn’t stop to say hey this girls unconscious this isn’t ok.
And this part of me has to restrain from breaking down when I hear their names, anger boils
inside cracking up and down my spine as I’m brought back to a time, reminded of freshmen year.
Waking to the sound of tears that one of my worst fears had become a friends reality.
And 4 months later I packed to leave campus,
because he was walking past us like nothing fucking happened.
Sex without consent is a death sentence. Not in the law, but in your mind.
Trapped with thoughts inside, ageing over time like a pomegranate wine multiplying every time
something reminds you.
And it’s a stress that both male and female victims hide because of how our society has promised
to treat them.
Part of me, thinks more than anything, that everything needs to change.
We need to stop teaching don’t put yourself in bad positions, and start teaching, don’t rape.
It sounds like common sense but clearly isn’t from the news today.
And part of me, thinks this anger and frustration is a waste.
But part of me knows that’s to blame,
because if no one speaks up,
nothing is going to change.
Author Bio:
Nicole Jean is a young poet from New England, who believes that everything she writes is therapy in some way. She does not know when she began to write, but knows that no matter where her life takes her, through the many career paths that she’s followed, that they always lead her back to writing. Poetry for Nicole is not an escape from the world around her, but a magnifying glass pointed at the cracks on the road she walks. As the daughter to a woman who has overcome two brain surgeries and the complications that ensued, she has a strong belief in the power of women and their amazing capacity for strength and change in the world.
Nicole has a vocational certificate in computer programming, and is an editor for the Salamander literary journal of Le Moyne College. She writes for a personal online blog, and regularly appears in the Syracuse Underground Poetry Spot to read and preform slam poetry. When she’s not writing, Nicole engages her mind with photography, philosophy and art.
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