I fear straight men.
I fear their unwelcome stares
their friendship, in worry that it is untrue
I fear their ulterior motives, as they are always there, waiting to make themselves known during a moment of weakness on my part. Killing my trust.
The very thought of their touch fills me with anxiety. I am claustrophobic when a friendly hand slides too far down my backside. Slime and grease oozing from every unsavoury pore.
I fear love and the pain that it brings. That upon the meeting of our eyes, and the fluttering of our twin hearts that mine will stop. And I will cease to exist only to be replaced by the shell of a weak woman
I have tried to become like a man, talk like a man, dress like a man, fuck like a man. It leaves me emptier still. This all consuming void of pain and experience in the pit of my stomach that taints every romantic thought that enters my body and spits it out like the poison that it is. Poison that has been shoved down my throat since birth simply because I was created with a cunt.
-HANA
-HANA
