It's Not Your Fault
By: Callum Panayi
To the survivors, I’m sorry, that it happened to you.
For your trust to be so violated, a victim of abuse
In the cruelest of ways, as they dictated your body
To be manipulated for their pleasure, now it’s part of a story
Of hundreds and thousands, for it happens so much
Statistically, the majority from men, a crushing of trust.
I apologise, that I speak so graphically, or without caution
As when it happened to me, people failed to mention
The banalities of evil, or that people could be so awful
And when you open your heart to some, they depict it as trivial
When it’s not, it’s abuse, it is sickening and it is scary
For people to rip away every fibre of you, your identity
Clawed out and stolen, as it is smashed into pieces
To be hurled from the rooftops, to the ground below, it leaves us
Thinking it’s our own fucking fault, should we have not led him on?
Should we have dressed differently on the night? Should we have not gone
To that party, to that club, to that event with that music?
Should we not have danced to that song, in that place, with all the acoustics?
Should we have not gone out at night, when the sun had just set?
Had we not frozen, or said no, our faces would not be so wet
With the tears flooding down each cheek, as we scream out from nightmares
Whilst they’re out in the world living a life quite happily, we struggle with the stairs
Of our home that we called ours, our safety net, our fortress
For it pains to wake up to do anything, each task a chore, a constant distress.
But all that is bollocks, and I am here to tell you that it is NEVER your fault.
The clothes you wear on your back, when they are the ones that ought
To be accountable for their actions, the perpetrator who took
Your trust in their hands and shattered it into fragments, when they shook
From you, your personality, your heart of gold, and everything you stand for
From your glisteningly gorgeous smile, the freckles on your shoulders,
Your great beaming laugh, from times when you are in your best place
Times when you are feeling like you can do anything, a temporary misplace.
But up to this point, I am so proud and grateful for your presence and poise
You are phenomenal and you are brilliant, you are worth a thousand of those boys.
Whilst it hurts for a while, like that man hurt me, we will come out the stronger person
As we go back to our hobbies, those friends who heal us, when they worsen
And fail in their lives, when the past catches up on them, they spiral
Into oblivion as they’re destroyed, who is the one now acting so trivial?
The statistics show clearly that the problem is with men.
What happened to chivalry and decency, when they launched their tirade on women?
Women, they gave us life and they nurtured us and they helped us grow
From young boys into men, come rain, shine, or snow.
It is almost as though we forget to treat people
As we would like to be treated ourselves, whilst drawn to illegal
Activities or actions, are men supposed to be rough?
Are we meant to be violent and nasty, does that make us tough?
Forget your pack of friends if you share that mentality or view.
Misogyny and harassment are wrong and they’re harmful, they’re two
Of the most horrific things you can be, as a man of the 21st century,
When love, and kindness are qualities that should grow exponentially.
Therefore, this is a letter to the survivors and the perpetrators of sexual violence.
To the survivors, I am proud of you, and to them, please don’t suffer in silence.
It may not heal overnight, but the support networks out there are incredible
And they are designed to connect and take a weight off your mind, it's impeccable
Mentors and advice, building an army of assistance. To the perpetrator, just think
About the cold-blooded and dangerous nature of your actions, a stink
That plagues and follows you round, a label that you are an offender
When you tell people you’re marvellous, a feminist, a solid defender
Of women’s rights when you’re not, you’re spineless and cowardly
For blaming me for attending your hotel room, when you overpowered me
You broke me for days, you tore me to shreds for weeks and for months
It took me a while to get back to my old self, when for ages I put on a front
That I was okay, when I wasn’t, but I’m so glad it’s out in the open and he’s caught.
A middle finger up to the evil, and to the ones who’ve survived? It is never your fault.