Another Boy

To forget would be a blessing,

to remember, a curse. Remember how he held my shoulders down 

covered my screams with a sweaty palm, ripping 

all pride from my body. I felt rage as he plunged through my body, 

with no mercy. My legs went numb, and there are no 

tears left to cry. Staring at the royal blue ceiling above me, 

a child’s room, now haunted with the ghost of my dignity. 

My body forgets how to feel 

My tongue paralyzed with fear 

 

“Were you drinking?”

”What were you wearing?” 

“Did you flirt with him?” 

 

Misguidged, and placed at the back of the classroom, we 

wait for our turn that is never coming. We wait for 

the day that justice is replenished, wait for the moment when it 

all becomes worth it. Silenced, pushed aside. 

The length of a hem line deciding how to address my assault. 

A court room of boys. 

 

This, this is what my father warned me about, boys- 

the one’s whose eyes are flooded with hatred, demons. 

Too many times have I mistaken the eyes of a monster, 

for a friend. 

Too many times have I mistaken the eyes of the devil, 

for just another 

boy. 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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