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tw // sexual assault
Transcription:
I hate public transport.
Sweat in the air
Static exhaustion
Silent anxieties
Emitted from
British politeness
Asking me quietly
To keep to myself
Ask no one for help,
When he looks at me like that.
“it’s a compliment why be such a brat?”
Fuck that.
What’s that?
I can’t just go
When it’s me trying to leave and you’re telling me no
‘Cause you know if I stay here I’m easier to control.
Passengers witness this crime, yet there’s not one soul
That sees what’s happening,
Or maybe they do
But they don’t care enough
Just continuing to scroll
Acting out society’s sinkhole.
They’re hiding.
Not one soul that acknowledges his hands moving,
The school uniform I’m wearing,
The situation unfolding,
In broad daylight.
It’s obvious, do I need to spell it out in black and white?
We can’t blame her because “it was the middle of the night” or “that chap's alright”.
It’s saddening really, the blackness on that train, that bus.
It takes a lifetime to talk about what’s happening to our young girls,
Everything that happened to our Everard
And the rest of us.
I hate public transport.
Words by Sam Cooke
Artwork by Erin Zhu