Conforming or Not to Form or Otherwise
It's this belief that I had to leave myself
to love properly, as if I'd be found,
not by some God, but a man, perhaps not
my brother with his sticky breath, even my father,
but a man,
the same animal that can rape to make a point
- lay down with power once too often and that'll happen to a guy -
anyway he's still a man,
one to grace me with another title,
another title to choke down, drown under,
marry into, save me the delusion
of being enough without this practice
of leaving myself to love properly,
being saved, not by some God,
but a man
- even if it meant creating one, -
and it did, so I did, and with him
you, all of you, again
with your sticky breath,
- and careless ways -.