This piece is about the walls women are sometimes met with when we express anything that is unexpected or not the norm. It explores the silences that trying to communicate difficult things brings about.
I’m seventeen.
He’s twenty five.
I say let’s not.
He does it anyway.
I’m twenty three.
He’s twenty three.
I say I can’t breathe.
He continues.
I’m twenty nine.
He’s in his fifties.
I say please don’t.
He doesn’t stop.
I’m thirty.
He’s in his fifties, maybe sixties.
I say I’m just doing my job.
He doesn’t stop, either.
No means nothing.
Language is a lie.
I’m seventeen.
He’s twenty five.
I say let’s not.
He says OK.
He does it anyway.
I’m twenty three.
He’s twenty three.
I say I can’t breathe.
He says then die.
He continues.
I’m twenty nine.
He’s in his fifties.
I say please don’t.
He says I’m harmless.
He doesn’t stop.
I’m thirty.
He’s in his fifties or sixties.
I say I’m just doing my job.
He says you can tell me your problems. Alone in my room.
He doesn’t stop, either.
I guess no means nothing. All language is a lie.