Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

20.10.19 | 22.10.16 | 14.11.16
Victim, wolf


This one time a man on the tram feathered filthy hands violating my body, as he stroked n groped so comfortable on his own will

Can we take a minute

This one time my little sister had to put up with boys will be boys behind closed doors n boys blaming it on urge

Lets take a minute

When we give toys to the name of women n acceptable society stereotypes to men who feel like they have some sort of entitlement to our body, n society makes it easy to throw around phrases that fall out of their mouth like they don’t have kin brave enough to protect, swearing that believe its wrong n still be the first to ask but what were you wearing is inexcusable


This is now not only a fight against filthy perpetrators, it is a fight against those who question n second guess

When this culture has been segregating victims from their trauma, did their best to remember a painful memory, this is for those who divine wolf

By what means is it acceptable for anyone to touch, taste, grab, grope without your voice to your own body, think about the many ways this culture has been hiding behind open doors, wide enough to make victims feel like the invitation, what they don’t acknowledge is the painful recurring play back instead of looking for answers, we blame the victim, how is this excused, how do we live in a society, a government that swear to protect their citizens when wolf gets away, how absurd when we prompt n preach put laws in place in the name of protect

I want to apologize to the fellow victims

To the accused bench warmers let me try n give you a glimpse of what it feels like, close your eyes

Imagine what its like to be backed up into a tight space, have unfamiliar hands so intimate you can smell your own fear, paralyzed that your own body doesn’t know how to react to this kind of unpleasant, even though you’ve sworn to scream so loud if you were to ever cross its shortcut, restless blank as your body is being violated frantically taking steps anywhere you find empty spaces, n its in that moment you follow its hand that you meet his gaze n he quickly snaps his hand back to his side n your body doesn’t know what to make of what just happened as you stand in dismay wondering if anyone had seen him, wondering if anyone will believe you, your body starting to feel the aftermath of its assault, as you stay shaken n stay paranoid walking to your platform, your mind pretending nothing ever happened, n your body still feeling the shock n shame as you make your way back home, this is a slight reality of what victims go through when you ask ludicrous

Did you grasp moral humanity yet


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