I said no and you wouldn't stop!

I said no.

And you—

You looked at me like that word was weak,

Like it didn’t belong in a man’s mouth.

Like because we shared the same flesh,

It wasn’t rape—

Just rough play,

Just boys being boys,

Just don’t be a bitch about it.

But I said it.

I fucking said it.

NO.

And you didn’t stop.

You treated my body like a dare,

Like consent was optional,

Like because I’d kissed you once,

I’d signed up to be torn open.

I didn’t give you permission.

I gave you trust.

And you ripped it out of me

With every thrust

Like a weapon.

I didn’t freeze—

I fought.

But you were stronger.

And I was too drunk.

And too scared.

And you knew that, didn’t you?

I said stop.

You said, “Relax.”

I said please.

You said, “You know you want it.”

I didn’t.

I fucking didn’t.

But you still split me

Like I was something to be conquered.

Your sweat.

Your breath.

Your weight—

Pressed down like a coffin lid

While I died underneath.

I said no.

And you made it feel like I never had a right to.

And afterward?

You lit a cigarette like you just got off.

I curled in on myself like a crime scene.

You laughed.

I bled.

You left.

I broke.

You left me with a silence

So loud it still screams in my ears

At 3AM

When I can't tell the difference

Between a nightmare and memory.

Because "men can't get raped."

Because "are you sure it wasn’t just regret?"

Because "why didn’t you fight harder?"

But I said no.

And you didn’t stop.

And I will never fucking forget that.

So here I am.

With the voice you tried to steal.

With the fire you thought you could snuff out.

With the truth that makes people uncomfortable.

You didn’t just rape a body—

You tried to erase a soul.

But I survived you.

I survived.

And now, I speak for every man

Too scared to say it out loud.

Too afraid to be called a liar,

Too broken to feel human again.

I said no.

You didn’t stop.

But I’m still here.

And this time—

I won’t.