Rape

She was raped tonight.
Pants forced to the floor
Soul shunned and ignored
And the colorful spirit she once wore
Was stabbed at the core
And stripped and ripped evermore

There she lay open
Gory, bloody remains
Hands grasping the bed frame
Fearful and full of pain
Shame…She felt shame

And the next day
There she still lay
Angry and afraid
But too silenced to blame
Too framed to say anything and really be heard

She knew she could have fled
Taken refuge instead
Of giving in to the man
But the man held her heart
He was part of her home
And he had the nerve to rape her
Then leave her wet to the bone
With no where to go
And nothing to show
Except a purple beaded necklace
Some jazz tunes, and grace

Alas, maybe there was a larger plan
As his white hand grabbed her brown breast
Fantasizing over her beaded, colored chest
Laughing at her worthlessness
Screwing her self-respect
Ignoring her protest
Yes, she was Oppressed

Unlike the well dressed woman
Whose man protected her
From the same deadly storm
Of rushing, raging, raining rape

Yes, she struggled to stand tall
Against so many fierce forces
Outside of her humble hands
And eventually, people ran
From all over the world
To bring comfort and renewal
To this soulful, hopeful girl

But when you’ve been raped by the man
That you pledge your allegiance to
And he pledges nothing to you
It makes you wonder why you haven’t left him behind
To find a man who will appreciate even the Lower 9th

Our endearing New Orleans was raped tonight.
Baby, I’m so sorry for the way he treated you.
Is there anything…
Anything at all
That I can do?



Photo courtesy of Sonia Keiner Flynn, my staff advisor during the Alternative Spring Break trip I took to New Orleans, Lower 9th Ward.

With hope and love,
Rachael