see you then

me: Oh what the fuck

How were you dressed? Had you been drinking? I sit in my chair as I shakily answer Honestly as you scribble down notes Shaking your head and avoiding eye contact A lump starts to form in my throat as I give you what you asked for Keeping my voice steady and slow Pushing the images of last night out of my mind And by now I know You won’t ask about him You haven’t even asked for a name All too eager to know how I was dressed Only adding to my shame Why do I feel like I’m to blame? It shouldn’t be me on trial here I’ve done nothing wrong… Or have I? I mean I agreed to see the guy It started as drinks I explain and he had too many I sobered up quick, keen to go home but he wouldn’t let me ‘Stay the night’ he said and what could I? He was bigger than me I couldn’t refuse I was scared he’d hurt me if I tried to leave So I stayed and kept quiet 'This is what you get for being a tease’ He spat, pinning me down I struggled and panicked but not a single sound Left my mouth in the moment he got his way So maybe it’s my fault for not trying harder and agreeing to stay in the first place I think, as you continue to write, that you don’t believe I put up a fight That this is one big elaborate lie from a girl who changed her mind In the heat of the moment Realising she’d made a mistake and goes running to the police Blaming a boy for just…being a boy