trespassing

we were working on something; a math quiz or reading exercise. he walked up to me and grabbed my left breast with his right hand. just like that, with the class surrounding us and mr monroy in his corner desk. he smiled and said,

"you need more ounce to the bounce."

the boys behind him started snickering and as he walked away he got high fives and slaps on the back. i remember him turning his head over his shoulders to look at me. i looked at his dark eyes and knew right away that he didn't see anything wrong. that's what i was there for.

i don't know that i was exactly sure how severe this was. i sat there with my friend alejandra next to me. i didn't move. i didn't laugh it off. i didn't say anything. alejandra told me it was wrong, that i should go tell on him. she said that no one should touch me like that.
he walked up to me again and said,

"if you tell the teacher i'll tell him how you touched my penis."

"but i didn't..."

"he doesn't know that."

i walked up to mr monroy with my head down. i tried whispering despite the fact that the majority of the class already knew. i told him what happened and he sent me to the counselor's office. i walked across campus while he got to stay in class. i sat there in a tiny and cold room while she asked me again what happened.

"were you following dress code?"

was she suggesting i provoked it? in a hurley pullover?

she called the principal over and then they sent me back.

that was it. thank you for playing, you can go about your day now.
he was called into the office but came back shortly. he smiled with a low gaze when he got back and every day after that. he didn't get suspended. he didn't get detention... no one checked up on me. my parents were not contacted and i never told them.

somewhere in my head i started twisting and questioning whether it could have been my fault. if my teacher, counselor, and principal let it go, what was the point?

"it could have been worse."
"you were just kids."
"boys can't control their hormones."
"you turned out fine though."
"he was probably just dared to do it."


none of those are acceptable. no matter how young or how old, no one has the right to touch my body without my consent. i should have been heard, helped, ask how i felt and what i was thinking. the parents of a ten year old should have been called.

this happens in schools, at work, on public transportation, in your own home, and it is not okay. it is not acceptable.

rise up. fight. teach.

white space

for each day and each thought, with all that they brought

would just calmly linger. 

so much that i felt, unbeknownst to anyone else,

the very moon was my only trigger. 

and blank pages would sit, untouched and unlit

for hours and hours on end.

stared at, they burned; to fill them i yearned.

but wordless pages you cannot amend.

so quoted i remained, from new words i refrained

for fear of being misread

although i know well, that the stories i tell

leave me entirely once out of my head. 

so reality or not, or loosely made up

i stand by every word

regardless of interpreted text, of this boisterous mess

make of it whatever you choose.