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Real men should not be meek,
Real men demand respect,
Real men should not need to give their tone of voice a thought when they speak,
Real men do not need to recollect when something goes amiss,
Real men have proper posture,
Real men do not crave the tenderness within a kiss,
Real men do not feel like imposters.
The propensities that I should indulge in are the yang to my yin,
I do not feel the lust of the triumph,
I am not dominating in nature,
I am an odd creature,
I crave the loss of control that comes with defeat,
I need to retreat to the safety of my room where no one can gaze upon me,
Need to relax and feel the comforting sting of pain.
My body is shameful.
I have been taught to envy other men around me, and fear my desires for soft and bright clothing or jewellery.
The shape of a body is easily hidden beneath clothing and restrictions, but it doesn’t change the feeling.
The knowledge that my body is wrong.
The feeling of loss when I am alone with my thoughts.
The knowledge that my vice is poorly hidden among those who already hold a flicker of an idea of what I am.
The shame that encompasses my soul when anyone knows, familial bonds be damned.
My mind is weak.
I have been taught to be ashamed of my desires, the way my eyes linger on the muscles and mouths of men.
Weak, weak, weak.
I mourn the loss of parts of me that have never existed.
My figure,
My height,
The object betwixt my thighs that defines masculinity for so many,
And I am sorrowful for the things that have been expected of my body since my wretched birth.
I am an imposter.
Safest hid in my room, away from prying eyes.
The concept of safe havens does not exist for those like me.
Those similar to me.
This is why I am afraid.
This is why I hate men.
This is why I hate myself.
This is why I do not deserve to be alive.
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ReplyThe last statement is not true . You do deserve to be alive. None of us are perfect no matter how great some may act. Alot of people fake having everything together.
Reply