Hearing

Hearing you
            Seeing you
                           Making this
                                         All about you

Makes me doubt myself
                            My memory
                                 My credibility
                                       Like hers, you might say
                                                                         It's full of holes

Because I was 12
                       Or I wasn't
Because it was fall
                       Or it wasn't
Because it happened
                       Or maybe it didn't
                                             According to you
                                                             And those like you
I remember where
  And when
   And how
     And who
         I remember how
           It hurt
            I remember the words
                The face I was faced with

I remember the denial that I cultivated
       I remember body memories
                      At 13
                               At 18
                                       At 26

I remember speaking about this
   At 36.
         So maybe waiting
             Makes me less credible
According to leaders
       To people
           In power positions.

Maybe nothing happened
         At all.

But why do I remember the words?
      The pain and pressure the no's I screamed
           The "stop" I wished for?  Why is the dismissal
                Inscribed indellibly in my not-memory, of the not-assault

When I was 12
        Or maybe not-12?

Places, Everyone

Settle
For the crumbs.

Settle for
The nothing-sums
We deign
To give
As if
That is
Enough.

Settle
For the scraps.

Settle for
The zero craps
We give you
When we toss
You -
And what little
Is left
At you -
Under the table.
Under
Our feet.

Settle
For abuse.

Settle for
The chains we loose
When we decide
To love you
Or accuse you -
It's really up to us -
To lose you - to confuse you
Or to leave you...
Always looking up.

Settle
For excuses.

Settle for
The lie our truth is
When we look back
On the past
Aghast
At the dying embers
You remember.

How dare you tell it?

The sins you claim
We did.
The ones
That burned your skin.

Settle
For I am entitled
To every charred
Remnant.
Every crumb, scrap, damn
Piece of it -

        of you -

Whatever, right?

Same difference.