On the cold pavement,
A boy was once taught that
Everything could be his
At the expense of what was mine.
He was taught from then on
That no one would stand in his way.
That he could hold us
Down on the cold pavement,
Down on the rickety bed,
Down on the wet bathroom tiles,
And no one would ever stop him
From claiming what was never his.
Held down on the cold pavement,
I first learnt the meaning of
Boys will be boys,
And that my body is a sexualised attraction,
To be groped at,
To be bruised,
By the will of those who think they’re gods
At every opportunity.
Being held down on the cold pavement
Is where I first learnt
how to be treated by my beloved,
How to hold back the screams as the vultures clawed at my throat,
How to act during the rape,
How to smile sweetly
and nod when the vultures said it was nice to see me.
It is not a lesson that I have forgotten.
It is not a lesson I will forget.
It is a lesson I hope I’ll never be taught again.