She was young and he was old.
She said stop and he said go.
But she wouldn’t say no.
And this was her flaw.
She put up walls,
but they were made of straw, not brick.
And he could knock them down with one breath.
She tried to fight,
but her specialty was ballet, not Taekwondo.
She wasn’t strong enough
to say no.
She tried to kick and tried to fight
She tried to scream but found no air.
She was suffocating,
enveloped in a sheet from which there was no escape.
She was tied down,
unable to break free,
struggling against the ropes that bound her.
She thought she was strong,
that she had her own voice and could fend for herself.
She thought she was powerful and in control.
But she wasn’t strong enough to say no.
But from her bindings
she kicked and flailed and struggled
and broke free.
She took a breath,
free at last
she could say no.