No Grey

For all of the women who were brave enough to share their story and were met with responses such as, “It’s a grey area.”

What about consent seems grey to you?

What about the length of my skirt or the dip of my shirt says yes to you?

How does the appearance of my skin come across as an invitation?

What if, what if, what if, the way I dress has nothing to do with men?

Maybe I’m hot, maybe I’m cold, maybe I just want to appear bold

Whatever the reason, whatever you see, keep in mind, it is only for me


What about my firm refusal seems malleable to you?

When I say no, you treat my words like play-doh

Molding my stop into go

Shaping my cries into sighs

The original color becomes lost in what you want me to say

And maybe that’s how you begin to see grey


Why do I need to make qualifying statements?

I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just not in the mood

How does a simple no not make sense?

In our discomfort and denial, we are told to be nice

In the face of something so vile, a simple no should suffice


The grey you see is from a storm you’ve created

In fear of being emasculated, you forced me to be dominated

What takes more of a toll?

The humiliation of a man or the assassination of a soul?

You call me a man hater

But when you neglect consent

You are a life taker


No more questions, I’ll try to make it simple

Imagine, just imagine, someone held you down

Your words, your body, your mind drowned

Hear yourself saying the word no

And watch as their insistence grows

Fight, flight, or freeze

All you’re left with is these

While his body enters you like a disease


Now imagine, just imagine

Your whole world turns black

While the noise around you turns white

And the memory of this moment will never go away

Tell me, please tell me, what about that is grey?

25 year old woman living in a Ford Transit Connect van. Telling honest stories of real love, loss and every experience in between.