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.
J.M. 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.
Love this poem, it is something i can look up to and others that can relate. We are the kind ,quiet but deadly to negative thoughts of poetry. Thank you.