Knock, knock. Who's there? Rape joke.
Rape joke? Rape joke, who?
Rape joke that's not **f**in'** funny.
Don't worry, we're good victims. We won't cry too loud, or demand your attention, or ask for trigger warnings.
Men like to use the excuse, "boys get raped, too," when they hear women talking about their personal experiences.
First, "boys get raped" should be it's own sentence.
If you're only acknowledging their trauma to silence female survivors, then you're a scumbag.
Second, all the male survivors we know would kick your teeth in for saying that.
And your friends who *aren't* survivors can't sympathize with you until they know *all* the gory details.
Please. Get your p**n somewhere else.
And once you do get their sympathy, it sounds like,
"Someone cat-called me once. So I totally get it."
"Someone stepped on *my* foot last week. It was a man."
"I just felt so invaded."
And to the boys who write poems, "To Raped Girls:
Don't worry, there's good men out there. The light at the end of such a dark tunnel."
Hold your hand, and court and everything. Thank God I'll get some thoughtful dick someday!
You know the poets will tell you, "Violets are *growing* in the shadows under your eyes."
They're not violets; it's skin. I know it's skin. It's good skin.
It's gonna be skin regardless of what metaphors you attach to it.
You'll be there when I cry, until my eyes get puffy and red. You won't be tearing off my lace panties.
Because they were expensive, and they made me feel like I was worth something.
Once you figure out that the only time *I* deep-throat is with a feeding tube at the psych ward, you'll be gone
And if you *do* want a healing relationship, how do you talk about it when the language is rooting against you?
Hey wanna *"bang,"* *"screw,"* *"nail me?"* *Everything* is so violent!
How to flirt with a rape survivor: Approach slowly and cautiously. Do not make *any* sudden movements or loud noises.
"Hey, baby. I've got anxiety, depression, PTSD, and crushing s**ual insecurity.
Want to come back to my place and hold my hair while I vomit?"
And then there's feminists who feel entitled to *our poetry and narratives* because, as they say,
"Under the patriarchy, like all women are constantly threatened by rape."
What does that make us? Hold on, Belissa. I'm turning into a statistic!
Holy pepper spray, Batman! I can only see in binary, the ones that look like penises!
Quick, Anne. You've got to pull it together for, s*ut walk!
Truly, nothing helps rape survivors of all gender, ethnicity, and economic level,
than the rich, white girls walking around half naked while collaborating with the police.
Because the cops, historically, are so good at *supporting* victims and *catching* rapists.
Getting real tired of s*ut walk slogans, too. "Don't s*ut shame me."
How about do not refer to me as a s*ut. *Ever.*
"Real men don't rape." Oh, sh**. Must have been a ghost then.
Consent is s**y? Lingerie is s**y. Consent is a basic human right.
You guys are supposed to be the adults we look up to, but, we went through our moon-goddess phase in 7th grade.
Humor helps trauma. We just want to know that your laughing with us.
We can joke about it because it's ours to joke about. Similar to how our bruises are ours to poke at.
And yours to keep away from.