Mum gave me a clump #2

Mum gave me a clump.
I can’t remember much more than that,
Other than she was in her undies,
And that it did happen.

I took it on board, the lesson.
Clearly I’d done something wrong.
Clearly it was my fault.
Clearly honesty doesn’t work.

If I was an adult I might have said,

- No.

It wasn’t the sting that hurt,
More the nature; the disbelief .
Had she have buckled, become human,
Perhaps I could’ve let it go.

***

We’re walking along the Moneymore Road, into town.
It’s summer. It’s hot. I’m hot.
The ball of my ice cream drops to the pavement.
There is no gut like this.

She looks down at me, steely eyed.
Strips me naked. Small bodied boy.
Curl up. Hide away.
Pathetic little shit.

***

Aunty Ann must have told mum
What a foul mouth I had.
Set free you see.
I’d cut loose.

Fuck it.

I showed Steve Ishmail my small bodied boy,
Stripped naked, the morning after,
In the woods, just off the car park,
Near Granny and Grandads.

He tried to help but I knew
I’d never make the phone call.
For shame see.
And I really wanted to.

***

Sunday, half past ten, sixteen years old.
She ragged me, hoping I’d get up.
Church at eleven.
I told her to fuck off,
Smiled when she whimpered like a bitch.

Dad did the dad thing
But his words fell on deaf ears.
If I never said it again
She’d know that I meant it forever.