The fragility of men has led me into more dark unwanted bedrooms than I care to remember. The politeness of safety has provided me with degrading discussions, unsolicited advances, and whispered no’s that should have been screams.
My body is the battleground for purity and whore mongering in a world ruled by egos of glass. Where I learnt too late the power of my voice and the depth of their fear for it.
Rage is unattractive but never unmemorable. A smile will find you in shark infested waters where you once thought you were safe. Safety at their hands only comes with their rules. Subjugation of the self is all that’s required.
Fuck politeness. Fuck the feelings of someone who doesn’t register yours. There is no safety in securing their crystalline image. Only when it’s broken and their rot exposed can you feel peace.
Jill Spinelli is a writer, editor, and artist living in NYC. She founded TrashLight Press as a refuge for the rejected, the feral, the too-weird-to-fit-in. Her work spans dark fiction, raw nonfiction, and the occasional piece of angry poetry. When she's not writing or making art, she's probably digging through the archives of the beautifully broken.