Dandelions: a poem about military rape

Dandelions

Jerrica Escoto

Click this link to hear Jerrica perform Dandelions

David is 19

Doesn’t know anything else besides the hard exterior of his bullet proof vest

And skills that those video games weren’t gangster enough to teach him.

David has a single mother who couldn’t afford his higher education

And a dream that fell into a pipe long before he even had a chance to realize he had it

They turned David’s skin inside out when he enlisted

Told him his insides need to be just as hard as metal bullets piercing young skin

No time for sissy play during war-time, they say.

His mother keeps his kindergarten picture underneath her pillow

And she swears, some nights she can feel him quivering

Sometimes she can feel the scars under her wrists pulsating

Because this isn’t what she wanted for him either.

I built him to be more than this, she says.

Yuko is 16

She doesn’t know anything else besides the fragility of her own reflection

And fear that is heard in her back and forth as she roams through Okinawa, Japan.

Yuko’s mother wishes she married an American

So she took her dreams and turned them into seeds

Implanted it inside of her womb

The night Yuko was conceived

Grew gardens of expectations the day she was born

And blew dandelions into Yuko’s hair

With silent wishes for her to marry a white or black G.I.

Save yourself for a soldier, she’d say.

Yuko remembers David

She remembers walking home from school

Past the bar

That only rumors talked about

And the whiskey on David’s breath that he signed off as his excuse

She can still feel the soreness in between her legs from

When he took his fingers

And inscribed “America, the beautiful” deep inside her thighs

As a reminder for her to know where he came…on

With the “Star Spangled Banner” blaring on his breath

He took her fluid dreams he wished he had

Used it as lubrication

As he forced her legs wide open

telling her maybe the more you spread her legs

The more miles she’ll gain to get out of here

Out of this room

With broken angels

Cutting off their wings to fan the ugly out of this room

With this boy who was never taught to be better

And this girl

Who’s body never had a chance to be more

David makes the mistake of looking into Yuko’s eyes

Just as she was desperately blinking in Morse Code to stop

And suddenly, the skills he learned begins to matter

He suddenly begins to understand her

He starts remembering

Now his kindergarten picture under his mother’s pillow can’t stop shaking

So he took his adhesive tongue and stuck a secret apology letter over the outside of her mouth

With “PS: When I was a kid, I wanted to be a firefighter. Not a monster.”

All the while, Yuko thinks this couldn’t be it

This ain’t the type of soldier that mama meant

Doesn’t give two shits

About the irrelevant letter that was pasted on her face

Doesn’t give two shits about his hidden good intentions

They won’t bring back her innocence

No matter the effort

No matter the sorry he slobbered behind it

He still took his dirty tongue

And cemented dead words over her mouth

To keep her silent.

Copyright 2009 Jerrica Escoto

Source: http://usmvaw.com/media/dandelions/

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