This post contains some language that my be offensive. Reader discretion is advised!
I remember running and crying and screaming and fighting – but no sounds. Paralyzed by the forces of evil – grabbing and clinging and forcing and holding and fucking – but no sounds.
I remember wanting to live without these sounds.
I remember that unconquerable feeling before becoming conquerable. I remember thinking that ‘this ain’t so bad’ before it became bad. I remember words like love and self worth being replaced by the sounds of “get the fuck out, bitch!”
I remember running towards something, but the sounds for his assistance wouldn’t come out. I remember asking for help but not knowing what to ask for and if they would hear my sounds. I remember feeling the forces - grabbing, clinging, holding again – and many more sounds.
When help arrived, I remember words being uttered like: quality of evidence sexual past consent force and no.
And the same sounds about him being protected with words like: disclosure protection embarrassment and alleged.
I remember being asked over and over again about a particular sound.
And I couldn’t remember.
I listen and watch and read and discuss and prophesize and debate and yell about another woman’s sounds. I listen to the graphic details of the “alleged victim” and wonder why her pussy’s on trial? I listen to the argument of her having to answer uncomfortable questions relative to her sounds. I listen to details of her sexual past and wonder does it all come down to the kind of sounds? I listen to sounds of people debating her physical health and hear words like: vaginal tearing promiscuity semen and value.
I listen and think whether she, too, ponders being asked over and over again about a particular sound and NOT remembering.
I cringe to the sounds of him holding back the tears, while he acknowledges fucking her: “Yes we fucked!” “I fucked her!” “We fucked!” I listen to those sounds, as he walks away a Man. I mean, he doesn’t have to defend his million-dollar dick! Just whether or not he heard a sound.
Do you think it’s possible that he was so consumed with his own sounds that he could not hear hers?
I remember years later still hearing the sounds of NOT hearing the sounds. I think that she will remember years later hearing the sounds of NOT hearing the sounds and words like: alleged victim survivor And wonder if putting her pussy on trial was worth these sounds?
I think about the millions of women who can answer that question easily. And how many more millions of sounds will never be heard. If only the sounds could protect you from feelings of: degradation humiliation disgrace indignity shame discomfort guilt
scandal disrespect fault self-condemnation and stigma.
I sit quietly in my peaceful times – with no sounds and I identify with her and wonder what sounds comfort her as the uncomfortable sounds of legal penetration – force her to wonder and remember the accuracy of a sound.
I have chosen to live without the memory of any sounds.