It didn’t make me
a woman darkened school skirt pleats
the pungent smell of loss this initiation
a twelve year olds guide to becoming
ashamed it didn’t make me
weak they did at night on push-bikes grabbing
my wrists threatening to fill me in back alleys
i hide under baseball caps and sweatpants
stitch the smile into grimace
on the 468 bus from school
his hand wrenched in front
polishes his manhood grinning
i take up taekwondo
it didn’t make me powerful only more aware
of my own weakness i study fly kick
my legs over head a girl with women’s curves
in dobok tied with red belt
every thursday in the church hall asks a man
how to defend herself
don’t piss him off he will follow you
to the road you live on you will forget
every stance punch block your fight whimpers
you cannot spar with predators
cannot stop
your french teacher pressing you against
metal lockers breathing
heavily against your neck
Jemilea Wisdom-Baako is a British-Jamaican poet. A London Writers Award & Poetry London’s mentoring recipient, she was shortlisted for The Bridport Poetry Prize & is currently working on her first pamphlet. Her work appears in Magma, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, Good Journal, and elsewhere.