i am convinced i need the approval of a man to be validated as beautiful. i believe i need men to give my body attention because they won’t like what’s beyond that. i have a strong personality and firm opinions but am willing to push that aside to be praised for my looks. i don’t believe i’m beautiful so i seek the attention of men who will say i do even if all they want to reveal what’s beneath the clothes. i am more inclined to offer my body because it has tougher skin than my heart. revealing my skin is much easier than voluntarily offering up the vulnerability of my feelings.

i wonder
if you will ever see
how gorgeous you look
as tears slip down your cheeks

I own a good chin to lift
a look that threatens from a distance.
The shield I never thought I’d get in the mail is here,
name written on it and everything.

So I walk out, shield up,
and yet
I shiver if I only get a hint of

A scent,
reminding me of someone
who ****** me with no permission.

Sometimes, I forget the amount of my anger
But, if it bares meaning,
I understand it.
Not only mine, the anger of many women, who

woke up in someone’s bed, and
left there smelling of a body
they didn’t choose to smell of.

Don’t tell me I should’ve said “No.”
Because sometimes the mouth doesn’t listen to the body,
body doesn’t listen to the brain,
the brain is not aware that

six years later you’ll be sobbing with the realization that
you’re afraid of the man you trust most of all

because he produces testosterone.

Six years ago, it happened too fast.
I didn’t say  “No.”
He didn’t give me time to do it.

As I was leaving, eyes clenched to my feet
I let him kiss me and say:

“I hope you don’t regret this night.”

That’s what makes me the angriest.

I don't understand
why are we concealing our heaviness
our heartaches
our blues
behind laughter.
Packaging them as humor
and art with a ribbon on top
when it's dark raw and pain
I don't understand
why we aren't talking about it.
Because it is just becoming worse
for you, I everyone.