Every time I hear another person I know
has been raped or sexually assaulted,

I cannot calmly recite the number of the crisis hotline
and assure them they are not alone. Forgive me. I’m sorry. All I can feel
is witchy rage boiling over inside of me. Potted plants
cracking on the kitchen tile. One more pair of tires
to slash. Another neck on my list to wring out.

I want to shake every friend I have
by the shoulders and demand of them:

Promise me you will never take advantage
of anyone in any way. I cannot be allies
with loaded guns. I’m not about to be Facebook friends with anybody’s rapist.

I do not have time for predators
shaped like adult educators
in this or any community— shit, I still feel

like I’m wearing the necklace
he made out of his hands for me.

I am still sitting in the high school discipline office with a guidance counselor
who is painting her nails while pretending to listen to me,
and instead of telling her and her top coat to go fuck themselves,
I tell her the same thing I’ve been trying since then to tell myself:

I did everything I could
in the situation I was in
with the materials I had.

Let me be clear: If you have ever hurt or exerted power over someone,
hey MTV! You are not welcome in my crib
and you are most definitely not on the guest list to this party.

I’m not here for exploited power structures.
I’m not here for Mr Fitz. Students are not fetishes
or prospective love interests.

There is already something about being seventeen
that makes everyone seem honest.

It is not okay to make your loneliness someone else’s
responsibility. Even if your work is brilliant. Especially
if your work is brilliant. This is a zero tolerance policy.

Having passion or talent does not make you a good person,
even if your poetry can pull apart the audiences heart like hot pork.

Being successful is not permission to assault someone.
What good is a good poem
if it’s authored by an awful person?

I am sitting at home, voice low on the phone
with a sexual assault victim advocate.

She chirps, The first thing you need to know
is that you are not alone.

I tell her, I know.
That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.