the sticky, dirty remnants of the band-aid only remind me of what i have lost.

If a man lies with another man and a woman fucks another woman they should be put to death.
If one eats shrimp, wears wool and linen at the same time, pulls out during sex one should be put to death. This movie is incredible. Everyone should see it. "For the Bible Tells Me So". Do it.

The first time my mom told me she knew i was dating elizabeth i felt sick to my stomach. why was i ashamed? was it shame or was it embarrassing because she was talking about sex with me? i didn't want to be like her. that's all it was. maybe if she hadn't come out to me first things would have been less uncomfortable. still, today, the thought of having so much in common with my mom makes me hate a small part of my self. perhaps it is because by being a lesbian i have accepted that my identity is a sexualized concept. it has very little to do with love or silly giddy happiness in the real world. it is about how i fuck and how i come by the hands of another woman.

i remember sitting in the bathroom stall at school in 10th grade. i had smoked a bowl in the basement with john and was now wasting time until the next class started. i had my portable cd player (something that seems very primitive now) and was playing jason mraz. i was singing along with my eyes closed and trying as hard as i could to embody jason. i imagined my hips being more prominent and my voice being deeper and my arms more muscular. in those minutes in the dirty bathroom stall i was mr. mraz and i loved it. when i have sex with her i am transported into another state of mind where i have more power than i've ever known and this control over the sex that is lost when we disconnect and are lying on our backs, breathless. in the rising temperatures of the dark, sweaty, lost room we become two people that are rather inconceivable when we are apart.

when he took my body out of my hands and placed it into his, he stole something that i have yet to get back. he raped me because it made him feel powerful and that is something i can understand. after months went by i came to realize that his desire to devalue me and become omnipotent in those moments was understandable. that kind of drive for power is something that many have felt. we do not act on it but i know that i more often do things in the interest of myself and not others. the way that he laughed nervously at first and then with every second his eyes got darker and then there was the breaking point for me. i knew that i had lost the battle when his eyes became piercing and his hands became steel vises on my pants and then on my hips. when i felt the brick scraping my hands and my forehead and my body being taken over, i knew that he had won and i had most certainly lost.

i had lost the battle at hand and the life long war over ownership of my body was looking grim. the path ahead was shakier, my map had frayed and become illegible in parts. i do not think, though, that he had helped himself in the long run at all. what could he have walked away with that night? other than the assurance that his physical strength was much greater than mine. how does he look back on that night? does he think he accomplished something or gained something that he did not have before?

the facts are not iron clad. but of some i am very certain.