It's not the doubt that does it.
It's not the second thoughts
nor is it the insecurities.
It's not about the lack of trust
or the saturated lust,
it's not the natural attraction
or the ****** satisfaction.

It's just the sickening familiarity of it all.
The painful realization that I've been here before, again and again,
yet each time expecting something...

*...different.

I realize
That not all men
****

That not all men
Beat

That not all men
Brutalize

That not all men
Leave

That not all men
Are destructive

But it's enough men
For me to be scared
Of all men

I know what it must be like
to deal with me;
but I assure you
it's not as hard
as dealing with being me.

I simultaneously push people away,
keep them at a distance with falsities
designed to prevent incidents
like people actually getting to know the real me

and wish they knew enough to understand
why

why it is that I grew to become this.