The Sexuality Beneath the Sexualisation: A Poem

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I should have known that you only knew how to

Use your body. You had no idea what a body with

A soul would do. Maybe I read your face right, but

Hunted that familiar duplication of everything that

Made me feel alive in the worst way. I should have

Known that you were prone to the massacring of ruins.

 

You’d always remain blind to their beauty and what

They still had to offer and provide, all of their growth.

Rotting away under your chest. You proclaimed yourself

The conqueror of women, the one making them moan,

They absorbed the language of porn, trying to come close

To your expectations without caring about themselves,

Their sounds empty, you were so fake that you believed their

Selfless lies.

 

Girls who were taught how to fake everything.

Instead of learning everything about their bodies.

Instead of verbalising what they want and don’t want.

Girls who were pressured to become unconditional yea-sayers.

Girls who were taught what an orgasm should sound like

Instead of what it feels like and how to get there.

Girls who were taught that they were there to please and bend over.

Girls who were taught to expect nothing.

Girls who were taught what to do with their bodies,

What to look like, which postures to hold and which facial grimaces

Accelerate his pleasure.

 

Girls who were taught to swallow pills after pills, no matter what,

That a condom accident doesn’t matter, fed with misinformation

And carelessness, to not get pregnant, yet live on the risky side of life,

Spread their legs when they’re wanted, that they worthless once it happened.

That the length of a boy’s list puts him on a pedestal.

A girl should never have one in the first place.

 

Girls who were taught that they’re whores and sluts and bitches,

The words branded on their skin, desired and ejected, ridiculed and rejected.

Their bodies bullied and shamed for an action that took two.

Girls who were taught to judge and condemn one another

Instead of holding each other’s hands in solidarity.

Girls who butcher their own hearts.

 

Girls who discriminate against each other.

Girls who were force-fed the male gaze,

Treating themselves depreciatively instead of connecting with their own bodies.

Girls who’d watch one after the other fall.

Girls who were taught to disappear once he’s finished.

Girls who were indoctrinated to be at his disposal.

To play a million roles instead of embodying who they are.

Girls who are expected to taste like plastic and look like silicone.

 

Girls robbed of their sense of autonomy.

Girls raised to despise the word feminism.

Girls taught how to make themselves scarce and obsolete,

Needed and exchangeable.

 

Girls expected to know everything and the boys nothing.

Girls taught to wait until he’s finished, work with his rhythm.

Sex as a dictatorship not a dialogue. One sex submitted to the other.

To be speechless, moan like monkeys, looking perfect, as if recorded.

Girls walking home with a feeling that someone

Just ransacked their bodies without even a hint of affection or care.

 

Girls feeling used and invisible, up for discussion,

A subject to brag about, to parade around, to “destroy” or “tear apart”.

Girls in the detrimental shadow of hypocrisy, boys the champions.

Stuck between a high demand and bullied into supplying,

Trying to find and grow comfortable with their own sexuality

That is constantly ambushed by abusive labels, guilt-tripping,

Gaslighting, artifice, gossip, double standards and disrespect.

grayscale photography of woman covering her mouth
Photo by luiisrtz on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

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