The Secret I Didn't Tell

Hello readers,

Over the last year or so, several issues have been on my mind. One of these issues is the ever-present culture of rape, sexual assault, human trafficking, and related topics that are enormous problems in the U.S. and around the world. So many brave people have shared their stories as victims and survivors of sexual assault, and by doing so, have helped raise awareness of the brutal reality of these horrible crimes.

I have thought long and hard about sharing this poem with my friends and family, but I think it is time. I don't want or need your pity for what happened to me. I have had years to come to terms with it, and I am okay. I simply want everyone to know that sexual assault is real, and it is in your hometown. It is in your family. It happens to your friends and neighbors. It happened to me.



the secret i didn't tell

i've seen hands
(cold, clammy)
wander.
i used to wear Wranglers.
i don't anymore.
they smell like
silage and robbery.
(forced entry is only
taken seriously at the bank.)
my hands were cold, too.
it was winter
and i guess my Wranglers
fit him like a glove.
(i wonder if the bible
keeps him warm these days
if he stands at the pulpit
like he always said he would)