“I don’t drink. A rapist doesn’t have to be a stranger to be legitimate.
Someone you never saw.
But, if you’ve been in public with him, danced one dance, kissed him good-bye lightly with closed mouth. Pressing charges will be as hard as trying to keep your legs closed while five fools try to run a train on you.
These men, friends of ours who smile nice, stay employed, and take us out to dinner.
Lock the door behind you.
And we are left with the scars, being betrayed by men who know us.
And expect like the stranger we always thought was coming that we will submit.
We must have known.
Women relinquish all personal rights in the presence of a man who apparently could be considered a rapist especially if he has been considered a friend.
And is no less worthy of being beat within an inch of his life.
Being publicly ridiculed having two fists shoved up his ass than the stranger we always thought it would be who never showed up.
Cause it turns out the nature of rape has changed.
We can now meet them in circles we frequent for companionship.
See them at the coffeehouse with someone else we know.
We could even have them over for dinner. And get raped in our own houses by invitation…”