Philomena Williams Poems

As a young girl, I was taught that I shouldn't hate boys, I shouldn't fight back to them regardless of what they did to me because it wasn't ladylike, they probably only did it because they liked me and boys will be boys, right? I tried to remind myself that when in fourth grade, I went home with cuts and bruises because a boy was pissed that I did better than him on our English test and he wanted to get even with me.I didn't fight back because as my teacher had always said, "that's just how it is, honey, boys will be boys".It was one of the two things that she had said to me that never left my mind, along with the reminder of how a real boy and a real girl can be distinguished from the "others".
I was twelve when I was molested repeatedly but I didn't do or say a thing except try to get out of this dirty, wretched skin because it was probably my own fault, I shouldn't have such precocious breasts at an early age.
Ha! What was I thinking? Going through puberty like that, looking all sexualized when I know that grown men cannot control their urges.
Stupid little girl, how could she forget that boys will be boys?
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