Man or bear? A timely question
In vogue at the moment
And like many assaults, this too
Will pass through people’s minds
More quickly than the memory
Which stays to linger and fester
And pester, creating children
In the brains of victims while
Their friends and family slowly
Forget, they are left to raise the offspring
Of violation, learn to live with them,
Teach them, love them, reach into
Their hearts and unlearn hate and
Shame, cast off the blame of someone
Else’s crime, time will only mend
This wound if tended to routinely
But remember, most everyone else
Will forget seemingly in an instant
Much like this passing joke that isn’t
Really funny at all, a cultural moment
That fades into the background, but
I’m asking that we stay here a bit longer,
And wonder together, bear with me as
We collectively realize that bears are less
Scary to women because at least we aren’t
Questioning if the bear will enjoy our
Pain and then explain how we were
Asking for it, if you’re going to hurt me
I’d rather we were on the same page
About who is receiving the rage of the
Other, man or bear they ask and I can’t
Imagine a bear would try to ****
Me in my sleep, would butter up my
Friends and turn them against me,
Would tell me I was overreacting to
His claws and bites, would
Meet my tears with delight and spite.
I’ll take a roar over laughter any day
If in either case I’m going to pay;
There’s more dignity in the bear’s way.

I hold my pen in
A grip too tight, no
Accidental slip from
This hand that lands
******* the page, a
Stage set for greatness,
At least that’s the hope,
Feast your eyes on
This masterpiece, cries
Of delight release from
Lips who mouth my
Words soundlessly, an
Unheard hymn to
Sing praise to me,
Raise me up, cup
Your hands to catch
My rain and drink
Of me, stain fingertips
In ink, sink teeth
Into these sentences
Like meat and tear
Me from the bone,
I grip my pen too
Tight so that you might
Delight in the pain I write,
See yourself in me
And be the light
That shines on we,
This is now our
Experience, we’re in
This together, feathers
On the same bird
That flies over water
Always looking for the sand
To land upon, I’ll beat
Our wings if you’ll
Promise to find your need
To read me, listen
To my monologue in
Your head as we
Search for our homestead,
I grip my pen too tight
To keep us aloft,
Our bird in flight.

I can't do hard things. This shard of
glass thought rings through my head,
fed by the memories and voices
of times past when I haven't been good enough,
tough break, I'll never make it in
that business better try a different one,
desperate none of my skills will transfer
but I'll force myself to learn anew, get good
enough to do the bare minimum again
and then forfeit my ambition to the
voices that tell me I'll never be good enough,
remember? Jack of all trades and
master of none, talent in spades but
no faster at reaching the goal because
I disallow myself from working hard
enough to regret the effort, why try
and give all I have when I know
how it will end, I bend and then
I break, I get onstage and shake,
I leave the page blank to ensure
my failure rather than risk
scrutiny and come up short, hear
again the report that I'm close
but not quite, in spite of all my sweat
they regret to inform me that I'm
inadequate; adorn me in rejection
letters I could make a gown from
all the times I've been turned down.
A black and white dress that flutters
with all my stuttering tries, the words,
words, words I wrote, begging you
to love me as you stand there above me,
my palms out for alms, my mouth
open for water, rain into me and
feed my growing spirit -- no.
I've pocketed my hands and
pursed my lips, I make jabs and
quips at attempts these days,
play and dance around the issue
but dispense with the idea that
I could see recompense for all that
I have given away. I lied before;
I have tried, and done my best- but
it hasn't been difficult, because
I'm not capable of that.
I can't do hard things.

Hijacked by the side of myself
That can’t stand to see you cringe for
Your love must be so frail that the
Simplest error could cause rupture,
An earthquake toppling structures built
On unfirm foundations, say that you won’t
Make that face at me. I must be
Mad to believe, but I’m never
Mad at you, of course, that
Would mean needs and I feed
Myself, thank you very much, I have
No requirements of you, truly I do
Not.

But.
What might you do if I were to ask, to
Beg, task you with the burden of
Supporting me, see me for what I am
Past sham and charade to the scared
Child, wild and wide-eyed, terrified,
And violent, but ever so silent. Quiet
As a squashed mouse held too
Tightly in hands so mightily clenched
I can’t wrench my voice free from
This giant holding me, fingers not pliant
But plaster, an alabaster carving starving
My throat of speaking, it’s protecting me
By deflecting my own thoughts onto endless
Mirrors and I’m stuck in the funhouse echo chamber
While you remain safe, un-doused in my
Hose of half cries for help. ‘Hear me, please’
I manage to whisper from what feels like
The grave though I’m floating out of body.

Catch my thread and tie me down, fly
Me like a kite you once loved, watch
and I'll dance in the wind knowing I’m spiked down
By you, and whenever I choose, you shall
Reel me in and steal me away from the
Harsh gusts, I need not be battered by
Everything, even though I know I can take it.
I make it my duty to be put through all,
A tall order even for me, but ‘no more’, I plead.
This time, I’m asking myself, not you.
This time, it is me I must appeal to,
seal my self-inflicted wounds with kisses,
Square my hips and say with brave and trembling lips,
‘I need you. --
I need your help.’