Once again
I mourn for my sisters
I mourn for our daughters
I mourn for our Foremothers
I mourn for those women
Who don’t even know they are oppressed
I mourn for our voices

I mourn for our equality

Our lost innocence

Our expected attentions

Our testimony is once again not to be believed.
Our existence must be corroborated.
Our work must be unequal
Both at home
And in the public sphere
Our sexuality is at once locked away
Because it is “precious”
And because it is a weapon.
We are held responsible for whatever happens to us
And then amid the laughter
We are not believed
Our testimony is still
Not
Believed
Why are you angry?
Why aren’t you angry?
He was young.
He was white.
He was rich.
Why do you want to ruin his life?
He is young.
He is white.
He is rich.
He can put points on the board.
Why do you want to ruin his life?
What did YOU do?
What didn’t YOU do?
How
Can
We
Find
You
Responsible
For
This
Man…or Boy’s
Bad behavior?
For goodness sake
She isn’t even hot enough to be raped.
Why didn’t you come forward?
WHY?
Why would we?
When we are quiet.
When we only tell people who we
Finally
Believe
We can trust.
Our pain is at least honored
Our testimony is believed
If only by ourselves
If only by our sisters
If only by the
Few
Good
Men
Maybe someday
Someone will believe them.

-Michelle Morr Krabill