Wearing
Forever 21 Aztec Pullover
American Eagle Denim Shirt
Express Black skirt
Soho Oxfords
“School of Society” – Poem
“Ayo Ma. YERRR. Shawty with the cake! You know what fuck you then. SLUT! I heard you pregnant!”
She continues walking down the hallway of a demanding society. She cries softly on the inside as she lets go of her breath. Breathing in and out, Breathing hard, sighing. The huge cliques of society continues laughing, pointing. She tells herself to breathe; Inhale, Exhale. “She’s a slut. They say, “I heard she’s pregnant without a father” They say. “Whore!” They yell. The ignorance grows stronger day by day. As rumors poured around her, people pointing and whispering, it kept her longing for someone who would listen to her. But there was never a wandering ear. That girl, that poor virgin girl who kept walking down that hallway, had a secret. A secret no other person seemed to care about. She had no one.
She didn’t just give up her virginity, her soul, her all. That girl was raped. Because of the society she enrolled herself into, known for a lack of people skills, and high judgment, her rapist didn’t even know he was a rapist. Learned in curriculum, Society taught the rapist that it wasn’t his fault. She is the one that drank too much. Her shorts were too short, she was asking for it. As it’s over, that rapist leaves her in a parking garage staircase. “An E for Effort” Society says. As she arose from the aftermath, she told her boyfriend, hoping he would understand, but that’s not how Society raised him. He does what Society tells him. He opens his notebook, finds his notes. “Got it” He spits in her face.
He calls her a whore. He calls her slut. Society gave him an A+. “She deserved it.” They say. She walks down the hallway, towards her friends. The friends she thought she had, the ones she thought she trusted, but they just looked at her. They looked at her like they would a cat, just ran over on the freeway. Not realizing the truth. That it could have been them in her position as well.
This is culture. This is your culture, my culture. This is her culture. This is society. We are the ones that told them, told her; that it was her fault and she suffered. But her rapist doesn’t know he’s a rapist. She walks to get her final grade. Society hands back her report card and says “I’m Sorry slut, you’ve failed but oh my the rest of you, passed with flying colors.”
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