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Violence

I feel violence under my fingers

And I don't remember putting it there

I paint my nails, to feminize them

To feel pretty instead of painful

I want to wear makeup

And women's clothes

I keep trying to distance myself from the violence in my white skin

From the violence in my genitalia

Why is it so easy to be a monster

Trust me!

Trust me!

I know that you trust me

I know that you think I'm different and I want to believe you

But what if I'm just a man

What if I'm just a man

Only a man

Women have raised me and taken care of me and made me and molded me

Men lie on beds of misunderstanding

Are allowed not to read social cues or feel responsible or obligated

Are ALLOWED not to develop emotional maturity because it is safe for them not to

Women have to feel those things because we make them

And then they make themselves and believe it to be their own fault

So I developed some of those things

To be better

I listen to be better

I am better

Unless those social cues and all that listening makes a better prepared predator

What if that violence hidden under my fingertips creeps out

What if that violence is just waiting to take advantage of this foundation for something better

I keep hearing that reform is code for different but the same 

So what if I'm just reformed

Y'all are out here raping people all the time

Sexually assaulting people all the time

Like its common

Like any opportunity is good enough reason

Like we have no self control in the moment to consider consequences

I'm feeling it in my bones that the women in my life have been abused and we just act like its normal

Even with MeToo

Even with awareness

Every dark moment is the last vestige of violence

And they persist

I am so fucking terrified

That in that same dark moment after all this thought and work that I will be just like them

Just like a man

Just like you

Just like what you've done

And it'll be what I've done

And I'll have to go back and read this poem and know that I wasn't strong enough

To choose someone else's well being over a moment of pleasure

I wasn't strong enough or smart enough or empathetic enough or woman enough

I'm so scared of that

Because I think you're beautiful

I really do

I can feel it in my bones

That's what scares

My mind knows you're beautiful but I FEEL it everywhere else

And I want something from you

I can't not want something from you

Because I think you're beautiful

And every time I think you're beautiful

I feel like I am undoing and undermining you're humanity

Would I be asking you these questions if I wasn't attracted to you

Would I even have noticed you at all

How awful is that

What if every word I say is a trap

What if every painted nail is a cover up

and a lie

With my listening

with my emotional maturity

What if all this human condition and social justice work is another fucking act and gimmick

A more sophisticated sports car and suit

A more sophisticated set of muscles and boots

And just another layer of seduction and deception

What if I can't escape this birthright of violence

This birthright of a selfish nation

This birthright of rape, and greed, and hurt


Is it right for me to think you're beautiful?

When that thought has been the first step towards violence

Like a siren song

But you're the one singing

and somehow also the one being trapped

Is it even right to think you're beautiful?

When I feel the violence of that thought

Echo through ages of bad people and good people

All failing the same

All failing in greed, and compulsion

All acting violent

Is it right to think you're beautiful?

What about after an exchange of words

What about after a night spent together

What about after a month of friendship

Is it ever right to think you're beautiful when I don't know if you think it back

Is it ever right

When people who look just like me have thought it

And let it be their very first step

Towards violence

Friday Postcard #4 - Contradictions of a person

My obsession with brutal honesty ~ Part One