Cathy Ulrich
Maybe You’re
the girl who went there alone, the girl who wore a short skirt, who wore tight jeans, leggings, sweatpants, who wore red lipstick, who wore no lipstick at all.
Maybe you’re the girl who got in the car with the wrong man, the girl who got in the wrong train car, who drove her own car, who flagged down a cab, caught an Uber, smiled too much, not enough, who said Home, Jeeves, who closed her eyes, pressed her forehead against the window glass.
Maybe you’re the girl who kissed him back, the girl who wouldn’t kiss him back, who accepted the drink he bought, who waved her friends off, who carried pepper spray in her purse, who couldn’t find it behind the wallet and tissues.
Maybe you’re the girl bleeding out on golf course grass, the girl looking up at the stars, the stars, the stars, maybe you’re the girl reaching your hand up toward the sky, the girl thinking in the quiet last, I can touch them, I can finally touch them now.
Maybe you’re the girl on the witness stand, the girl who cried too much on cross, the girl who didn’t cry enough, the girl who scrubbed the evidence away in a scalding shower, the girl who endured the exam, latex gloves and bright-white lights, did you say no, did you try to fight.
Maybe you’re the girl who drank too much, the girl who danced too close, who had a rum and coke, a shot, who had one beer, who didn’t even finish it because she didn’t like the taste.
Maybe you’re the girl who thought he was just a friend, the girl who led him on, who ignored his texts, gave him a fake number, maybe you’re the girl who went home after and held a teddy bear to her chest, who rocked back and forth on her bed, who cried, cried, cried.
Maybe you’re the girl who got over it, the girl who thinks she got over it, who winces at the sound of slamming doors, who startles at the soft touch of breath against the back of her neck, who stares at her computer monitor, who drinks, who goes to therapy, who stops talking to friends who don’t believe her, who is called a liar, is called a bitch.
Maybe you’re the girl who. Maybe you’re the girl.