No one will speak of it

i found

           letters i wrote

                  after i returned home with my body smelling of lubricant and latex

i wasn’t stupid enough

to think that this event at my young age would result in a new prefix 

old man

       blue man

                  sad man

found comfort in my skin,

                                         so i let him bump up on my cervix

when i informed my sister of the occurrence she had the audacity

               to shake her head

the next day she wrote “death before dishonor” on the blue walls above my bed

used black eyeliner instead of pen or dull, worn lead

i don’t remember his name. i don’t think he ever told me 

he drove a red truck and resembled my uncle

dark skin

red truck

chubby child

he wanted to take me fishing.

nothing 

nothing 

nothing was caught that night

                                                          it didnt hurt like they say it do

                                                                                                          it didnt feel good like i wanted it to

i just rose for a minute under that ink blue sky

and felt my bare body on the gravel as i waited for time to pass by....

no one can be dissapointed.

i was only 13

someone should have saved me.