The Fight

You wrecked the party
I was having fun, we had driven for hours
You played the same card as usual
I was angry, your timing was dire
You always tried to out-insecure me
I was insecure, too
You said “I’m not worthy of you”
I said “Fuck, not this again”
You had tears in your rejected-puppy-dog eyes
I strode to the car in a tantrum
You were afraid and didn’t want to lose me
I was unyielding with my silent treatment
You tried to melt the frost in the car by talking
I drove, sulking and ever-resolute
You unzipped your jeans and grabbed my wrist
I was driving into the black, midnight countryside
You laughed, trying to force my hand onto your hard cock
I snatched it away, how dare you?
You didn’t give up, desperate to break the tension
I felt scared we might crash in the darkness
You slid your hand beneath my dress, into my underwear
I screamed at you, trying to shove you away
You pushed your fingers inside me
I screamed louder for you to stop
You saw no harm, and just wanted me to want you again
I stayed with you for another year
You invaded my space that night
I didn’t want you to – I told you so
You were wrong to do that to my body
It’s
Mine.

Photo Credit: DeeAshley Flickr via Compfight cc

Written by 

Judith Staff’s background is in teaching and early years education. She still teaches occasionally, though now her main focus is in child welfare and safeguarding children. Her work includes delivering training, presenting at conferences, and engaging in collaborative projects with schools around child abuse awareness and sexual violence prevention. She enjoys writing blogs and poetry on topics she feels passionate about. Judith loves running, gym classes and karate. She is married to an art lecturer and they live in Northamptonshire, England with their three free-spirited children, a 12- year-old son, and daughters aged 11 and 9.

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4 thoughts on “The Fight

  1. I so appreciate your kind words & encouragement, Cee – thank you,
    When others write so courageously, it inspires me to try.
    xx

  2. Thanks so much Rach, truly grateful for your support, as ever.
    I’m learning that writing doesn’t fix the past, but definitely loosens its grip.
    xx

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