“But I've bought a big bat.
I'm all ready, you see.
Now my troubles are going
To have troubles with me!”
Dr Seuss

Late one night
Many years ago,
When I was
But sixteen,
I stood washing dishes
When a monster
Slid his arms about me
And nuzzled my neck,
Making the growling noises
Of an aroused man.
In times past
I would have submitted
To my need for love
And a shaming fear
He'd forsake me
As others had done,
But that night I chose
To resist
And found myself trapped
Between his big, strong body
Against the refrigerator.
I remained silent
As he pawed me,
His breathing growing heavier
As I struggled, for I was
More fearful of retaliation
From certain family members
Who would blame me
For surely tempting him.
Only the errant sound
Of his young wife
Entering the living room
Saved me, and
He threw me aside
As he hurried
To intercept her
While I escaped
Into the bathroom
Off the kitchen.
Short minutes later
He pried the chain lock
From the door
And entered,
Intent on finishing
What he had started.
For once,
Though I sat huddled
And trembling
On the side of the tub,
I stood up to him,
Promising that if he ever
Touched me again,
He would be the one
Who would have to explain
Why his face was imprinted
In his mother's favorite
Cast iron skillet.

He never touched me again
But for decades afterward
The years of his abuse
And that night of
My near rape
Haunted me.
I could not stand
To see male interest
In another man's eyes
Nor hear the sound
Of a man's heavy breathing,
Even when he did so
For the most innocuous
Of reasons.
I despaired of ever having
A “normal” life.

I am now too old
For a family of my own
And except for one
Forgettable night
Have never let
Another man
Touch me.

Then in a dream
Just this morning
The monster came again.
Much as he had that night
While I was washing dishes,
Oblivious to his presence
Until he wrapped his arms around me
And buried his face in my neck
Making growling sounds.
But this time
I slapped him viciously,
Leaving suds streaming down his face.
I told him that I now belonged
To someone else.
He demanded to know who
And I serenely replied
With a single name,
“Michael.”
As I resumed
Washing the dishes
The monster went away,
Back to the house full of family,
Including his wife
At the time of his death,
Leaving me
Finally at peace
With myself.

c. 2024

For Michael, my strength, my knight, and my steadfast friend, who through his love has given me back the Self I lost as a child. No, I don't “belong” to him in the traditional meaning of the word. But I knew my monster well enough to know he would never understand, nor accept, what it means to have a fellow warrior standing behind me, confident I could take care of myself yet ready to steady me should my strength begin to fail. Michael belongs to me and in that way, I belong to him.