Blythe Baird – “I Lose My Voice During Sex”


The soft girl in my bed The soft girl in my bed is all dual tone lipstick and good intentions. She whispers, “So what do you like?” into my skin, and I feel my voice shrink into a tiny pearl until it falls to the ocean floor of my throat. And this soft girl did nothing… wrong. But I am still drowned in embarrassment. My stiff voice clamps shut and hovers above the bed like a shadow and my tongue tangles into a tight cherry stem knot; I do not feel entitled to ask for what I want. I don’t even know what I want. Me, the b*tch who never shuts up, suddenly has nothing to say. Me, the b*tch who never shuts up, suddenly has nothing to say. I still struggle to speak up during sex. I cannot help but wonder, is this yet another thing trauma has taken from me? Did my rapist take my voice as a souvenir to reminisce over their fond memories of invading my body? When the soft girl in my bed says she likes to be choked, I instantly feel every light in my body go out and suddenly, I could time travel. I am slingshotted back to the memory of a man with fishhooks for fingernails and barbed wire for hands, how they coiled around my neck like a python, how the lump in my throat clotted like blood, how I waited so patiently for it to be over. How I closed my eyes, how I cried, how I shrieked, how he heard me, how he was hurting me, how he was hard this entire time.

63 thoughts on “Blythe Baird – “I Lose My Voice During Sex”

  1. Whoever disliked don’t understand.. this was powerful ‼️

  2. Wow. Amazing. All the love to anyone who's been through something like this. You're strong and you matter

  3. πŸ˜­πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ˜­πŸ˜­πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ˜­πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘

  4. Whether it is "when the fat girl gets skinny" or "yet another rape poem", they make you feel her pain and joy she feels while performing them. #BlytheTheBard

  5. Breathtaking truth! I cried because I relate so much and because I was so relieved to hear the words I wasn’t able to say! Thank you for this poem!

  6. Thank you for this your words are enough you are enough you are so powerful

  7. She is so amazing. Her poetry always inspires me so much. This poem made my day.
    β€οΈπŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’™πŸ’œ

  8. your description of waiting so patiently for it to be over made me cry because me too & i hate myself for it

  9. "Did my rapist take my voice as a souviner?"
    That line… It just hits so close to home, right in the bullseye.
    It's taken me a very long time to unlearn the things my rapist taught me, and I have to remind myself every single day that I CAN speak up for myself. I'm allowed to say what I need to… Especially if I'm uncomfortable… But it doesn't make the fear more real… And my voive seems to shrivel up into a tiny ball when something happens… Its like playing hide and seek. But I always find it.

  10. the 8 people that disliked this sure have an explanation. This is relatable

  11. β€œ… how the lump in my throat clotted like blood…” lovely.

  12. Of all the poets I love, Blythe is the one who I connect with the most. She is amazing with words to help describe what so many women and girls are feeling. My heart is so in love with her poetry and she has helped me start to find my road to recovery. I cannot wait to get her new signed book. Thank you so much, Button and Blythe for helping me feel like I am worthy of recovery and not alone. ❀

  13. This poem was.. beautiful.. I’m so sorry you had to go through this.. you are strong and you are beautiful. I hope one day you will regain your voice back.

  14. Thank you for putting into words what I'll never be able to say. You're so brave, strong and resilient. I admire you!

  15. Bless you, sister <3 You are so strong and you are loved and supported. May you keep living and speaking these sorrows and agonies into sparrows. Your words lift so many other women out of dark pits–thank you, Blythe.

  16. My rapist is snapchatting me as I watch this as I try to act like he is not my rapist.

  17. the soft girl in my bed is all jewel toned lipstick and good intentions

    she whispers β€œso what do you like?” into my skin and i feel my voice shrink into a tiny pearl until it falls into the ocean floor of my throat

    and the soft girl did nothing wrong

    but i am still drowned in embarrassment my stiff voice clamped shut and hovered above the bed like a shadow and my tongue tangles like a tight cherry stem knot

    i do not feel entitled to ask for what i want

    i don’t even know what i want

    me, the bitch who never shuts up suddenly
    has nothing to say

    i still struggle to speak up during sex

    i cannot help but wonder β€œis this another thing trauma has taken from me?”

    β€œdid my rapist take my voice as a souvenir to reminisce over their fond memories of invading my body?”

    when the soft girl in my bed says she likes to be choked i instantly feel every light in my body go out and suddenly i can time travel

    i am slingshotted back to the memory of a man with fishhooks for fingernails and barbed wire for hands how they coiled around my neck like a python how the lump in my throat clotted like blood

    how i waited so patiently for it to be over

    how i closed my eyes

    how i cried

    how i shrieked

    how he heard me

    how he was hurting me

    how he was hard

    this entire time.

  18. Anybody could write the poem? Because i'd like to translate to portuguese to understand all poem

  19. All feminists are useful idiots. All of your funding comes from banking cartels via academia. You're being used to divide society – divide and conquer – it's the oldest trick in the book. Julius Caesar knew it. The family is the last bastion of defence against the open market and you're being used as battering rams against it. You'll all find out, when it's too late, each and every one of you.

  20. What does it mean that I’ve never experienced a (sexual related) trauma but I can’t speak during sex

  21. this spoke to me in so many ways . Literally the text i sent to my best friend last week "i feel fat and ugly and this is why I struggle so fucking hard to communicate in bed. my insecurities convince me that I'm not entitled to experiencing pleasure during sex and so it always becomes more about my partner than me. pleasure is for them, not me. i have never been able to have a face to face conversation about what i want. and i have never been able to tell a person to stop doing something that was hurting me/that i didnt like without feeling guilt for obstructing what they were enjoying, so more often than not I fake until its done with."
    Very different situations, but similar outcomes. Im so sorry πŸ™ I hope you find your voice ❀

  22. As a queer femme with queer femme loved ones who are survivors i feel this! I have been on the otherside of this conversation.

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