Silence Gives Consent

The perfect thing to say
seems to always come
after the situation...

         but how hard could it
         have been to think of "no"?

I've been assured,
by those who "rescued" me
that fear rendered me stupid,
that panic was a thick black gag,
that my tears conveyed the message.
         Apparently, not well enough.

Everytime I relive those minutes
I find new places where that
simple "no" could have fit.
         (a million times over)
Each time I scream it louder
in my head, perhaps to
make up for the error of my brain.

They can tell me all they want
(and all it takes to make
themselves feel better)
that blame does not come from the
absence of a verbal protest-
but as the proverb
         and his lawyer
so succinctly says...

         "Silence gives consent."