a boy asked me to touch his penis
i refused.
it was late
at night
and i was tired.
he said
that if i did
that he would make me
a special green card
and decorate it with fairies.
i didn't even like green.
an hour later,
i relented.
it felt weird
uncomfortable,
like somebody had
destroyed my innocence
destroyed my will
to live.
i was five.
three years later
the little git told me
he loved me.
had always loved me.
he locked me in a wardrobe
and tried,
in vain,
to passionately kiss me.
and when i left his house,
i was gifted a butterfly card
and a krispy kreme napkin
and
a severe sense of discomfort.
YOU ARE READING
Just Another Scripted Brain
PoetryMy naive attempt to navigate primary school is documented in a series of bite-size snapshots, intended for scrutiny and best paired with a cup of tea and a nice episode of Blackadder. You might have to take a pit stop at certain embarrassing moment...
