Tell Me What You Saw In Me


Tell me what you saw in me

Braided blonde hair and overalls

Sippy cup in one arm

Teddy bear in the other

The vastness of a new life spread before me

Unsullied, promising, bright.


Tell me what you saw in me

A cheerleading uniform and braces

Trying to just be normal

Unsure, scared, lonely.


Tell me what you saw in me

Khakis and a blue polo

Walking to catch my bus after a day of work

Tired, disenchanted, guarded.


It must be my fault—

Was it the way I dressed,

the way I spoke,

the way I breathed,

the way I occupied space that you wanted for your own?


Tell me what you saw in me

That thing that enticed you to try and steal

What I had left of my faith in humanity.


Tell me what you saw in me

So I can smash it into a million pieces

So I can hide it within the dark tomb of my heart

So I can begin to heal

So I can stop asking why.


Tell me what you saw in me….



Author’s Note: So many people are affected by sexual assault. The trauma lasts a lifetime and writing has helped me cope with that pain myself. You can’t turn on the news today without another story of a person who has been hurt this way. The recent case in Ireland disgusted me in how they blamed the victims clothing for her assault. Clothing doesn’t mean consent. I wrote this because no matter how much time has passed, I’ve never stopped asking why.