Sex Doesn't Belong to Women

A poem by Sam Cooke

Should I take my top off?

Would you rather I keep it all on?

Some like my mystery, Others skin

They can lay their hands upon

some want you to give it up there and then

“I paid for that, so I own you whole”

choking, hitting, pulling by the hair

when its just him its not sex, it’s control

But if I do it myself it’s still for you

hmm, sound logic.on my own in my underwear,

what a view, for them in my head

so fucking toxic

Either through mirrors or the neighbours window

it doesn’t matter it's always them

I’m just letting my body show,

except I poisoned my own mind for them

I make money from it I’m a slag

stay true to myself and I’m a f*g

say yes too easy and I’m ‘just a shag’

Sex isn’t mine

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Words by Sam Cooke

Artwork by Alexandria Coe