make you dull

There once was a woman

who was treated so badly as a girl

that once she became a

w o m a n

she tried to make herself so

unattractive

as to avoid it happening again.

I tell you this because I've realized

that her and I have something in common.

Even though I never had surgery

or any kind of reconstruction,

I do cover my body

in the hopes of escaping the

m a l e g a z e.

I have been taught from a young age

that a man's genitalia

is not a tool used for procreation

or for love,

but a weapon protruding from his body.

And for that

I am doomed to always doubt

when loved by a man

if I am truly being loved

or if I was just suckered

into being stabbed.

When he does something nice for me

tells me I'm beautiful

tells me he wants to love me

is it because he really loves me?

or just because the dagger

was aching for flesh?

Am I (target) practice?

A dummy who could never see her own eye

Gaslit into believing

my wounds were made from love

that they were real proof of love

etched into my bones

when they were really

evidence of torture.

Am I only practice?

A trial to dull your blade

before the one comes around?

How many (of me) must you have

before your blade is no longer sharp,

your eyes no longer hunting,

your hands no longer invading?

How long until you

are dull enough to love

and too dull to

R A P E ?