Waiting

I decided to finally type out and publish the poem that I wrote in the police station. I had already waited over 2 hours for a female officer to come help me, once she read what I had to say it took another good half and hour before they told me a female sex crimes detective wasn't available and that they only had 2 and insisted I talk to the male detective even though he shook my hand, made fun of how I looked, and dismissed me coldly. 

Here is the poem I wrote while waiting for her to come back after being the only person at that point to read the worst things I thought were crimes. Like being assaulted while screaming no or while unconsciously drunk. 

 I have aspirations of reading it in public someday or of making it a song or spoken word art but we will see. For now. This.

Waiting

Why did you wait so long?

Why didn't you say something the first time?

How can any female remember the first time being harassed?

The first time a man "unintentionally" grazed our ass?

As we walk past the graves of those before us

Was it someone who should have cared for us?

Someone who said they loved us?

Just some strange dude on the bus?

When do you know enough is never enough?

When do you stand up and call their bluff?

When do you realize they are not so tough?

You have all the stuff

You can stop them 

You can say no 

But it is something you have to be told


Until Next Time...
Love,
-Jackie Lane