I have a story to tell, only I'm not allowed to tell it. Society has gagged me and shoved me into a box Where certain things are deemed inappropriate Because they make such a fragile box break. And if the mighty strength of the box breaks, How can we ever survive? So riddle me this. One day I met a stranger who gave me a drinking problem That turned into a thinking problem, because suddenly I couldn't think as to why I was drinking when I don't drink. There was a fog that began to pour out of my uneasy mind And laid itself heavy upon the ground around the stranger and I. And then the stranger turned into a mere shadow on the wall. Then it grew claws that crept along until they took the forms of two more shadows That grew their own claws and tore smiles into their faces. My head danced in the haze of the mist, But I saw all three shadows jump out of the surface of the walls, Like out of the screen of a television And into a reality as the lights go out. Then the claws dug into my wrists and burned my veins While the jagged smiles tore into my flesh. So then it didn't matter how much I was burning, Because I was covered in so many happy little smiles. Later, the shadows evaporated into the haze That receded into my own brain, like it had never seeped out around me And engulfed me. Inflamed me. Even though my body was still smiling blood. And that's the story of how someone is forced into silence, Lest they relinquish their right to the word 'masculinity'.