Old Wounds

Men,

They expose themselves to me,

Literally,

And in public places,

They please themselves.

I do not understand.

Is it sickness?

The adrenaline?

Thank God that is the extent of my personal boundaries crossed sexually.

Aren't they supposed to protect me?

It is okay really.

Really it is.

But they say I am supposed to be angry.

I am supposed to remember how powerless I felt.

Scared, disgusted, shocked.

Like a foggy dream,

But were they really nightmares?

They say if I do not face this.

Feel this.

When my sons are born,

I will linger.

When I am now in control.

And they are helpless.

And I will make comments with girlfriends,

And deep down there will be subtleties,

Possibly contempt.

Possibly expression of power.

So, fine.

You win.

Let me reopen these boxes.

Let me reexamine these wounds.
...
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD
© May 2015