Saturday, September 22, 2018

Confiteor (I Confess)







it was my fault
for being young female and alone
on dark streets
it was my fault
for speaking to a man I didn’t know
it was my fault
for wearing shorts tight jeans fitted slacks
a gauzy skirt a long skirt a short skirt
it was my fault
for thinking it was just a friendly conversation
it was my fault
for letting him buy me a drink
it was my fault
for walking home from the bus stop at night
it was my fault
for not being violent enough
for not screaming loud enough
for being so scared no sound would come out at all
it was my fault it was my fault it was my fault

I confess I bare my soul I bury my soul
I tell the almighty powers
the police the teachers my parents
and they tell me it was my fault
that I shouldn’t have been there
that I shouldn’t have worn that
that I should have been home
that I should have been studying
that I should have been decently silent
that I never should have laughed
accepted that drink
walked down that street
you get what you ask for
you get what you deserve

I have sinned exceedingly
in thought word and deed
and my judges are men and mock-virgins
women who have never looked outside the world
described by patriarchy
defined by the judges
men whose hands a
re not clean
women who have never questioned the boundaries
because when they stepped outside they were punished
much the same as I will be
the only forgiveness is Silence
the only forgetting is Silence
the Silence is Deafening

mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa



© 2018 pamela twining