by Hannah Doherty
How is it fair
That women are
At the end of
Every
Single
Stare
Every smirk, smile and glare
A secret message
A little grin
To try to win
The women idolized
As nothing more than a prize
Stuck in my tracks
The bus lurches forward
And he sits next to me
A pity plea
He makes to me
Lost his phone
A new job interview
He bombed
Out of juvie
Just a newbie
Tryin to get home
Suspicious, I
Took a skeptical eye
In my proceedings
Didn’t make a difference
He still stuck to me
For the distance
Like a leech
Sucking out every drop
Of saliva from my mouth
The spit sputtering out
My only line of defense
Against his never ending comments
It took every ounce of resistance
Not to . . .
not to what?
I’m stuck, he sits next to me
Scrutinizing every breath I breathe
Every word
Which one would be my last?
I wondered
“If I wanted to hurt you,
I would have done it by now”
He reassures
He couldn’t stop asking me
If I was scared of him
I always said yes
He was not deterred
Calling me a racist
And yet his future lover
I was stuck
On this bus
No way to take cover
From his never ending questions
Trying to get a reaction from me
That he never wanted to hear
Manipulative
Insane
We kept driving down that lane
One hour and a half goes by
A rap he made
Followed by a serenade
He’ll be famous one day
Then I’ll want to be his wife
As I sat there listening
The sweat glistening
I could barely think
Of anything but how to please him
But nothing would appease him
Not fake love
Or blatant hate
He wanted what he wanted
Whatever my state
And to this very date
I still catch the blame
From my parents and friends
But my sobs didn’t end
For at least two hours
From the moment I stepped off the bus
To the several long showers
But I couldn’t get the saliva
Back into my mouth
Everyone just sees this
Pathetic, little girl
Who couldn’t get up
To tell the bus driver
Call the cops
They can’t see how many times
I thought those thoughts
How many internal battles I fought
Something was stolen that day
A piece of me
He sucked out
But I still ride the bus
No doubt
Having flashbacks
With every side glance
It doesn’t matter
What they think
In the end
It’s just me
In the “pretty pink”
Fighting battles
With every wink