They come and Go

They come and go

Every once in a while, the names and faces of meaningless men appear. The invasive “hey baby’s, the aggressive “hey you come here” ring in my ears as if it was yesterday. The man who follows me on the train to the driver locking the doors and passing my location. From the older business men unraveling me with their unwanted gaze to the friend trying to force my affection after I said no. I remember every face. Every name. Every detail. To shackle my trauma and keep fear at bay, I remind myself that other women aren’t so lucky and I got away. Except

I didn't.