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Poetry

Blindly Dating

I can’t stop thinking about men,
About the way they can control every action,
Nonconsensually mind f**king every room they enter,
With no hint of an apology afterward,
I can’t stop thinking about dominating them,
Fantasizing about riding their faces with my mind,
Muffling the noises coming from their mouths,
With the ideas that I have pouring out,
I can’t stop thinking about satisfaction,
From the look in their eyes when they realize I am the dominant one,
That the ability to hold my tongue was an assumption,
Made from the past actions of other women,
I can’t stop wishing they would leave me alone,
With their catcalls, whistles, and smartphones,
Stop sliding in my DM’s and start scaling down the ego,
To allow space for conversation,
To take time to warm up my mental libido,
To use a tone of acceptance and the pick-up line of being vulnerable,
I can’t stop thinking about a real connection,
With a message of equality for women and men,
A defining difference in the way we are interacting,
Looking for connection over sex,
Allowing space for my anxiety to exist,
For my insecurities to be washed away,
To allow my sins to stain my skin,
Creating beautiful patterns of experience and forgiveness,
Blending perfectly with the scars across my body,
Evidence that I have fought many battles and survived them,
I can’t stop thinking about displaying every inch of my unique skin,
Allowing them to bask in the glory of my feminine,
Taking control of the situation and apologizing to no one,
Daring them to have a taste of my crass humor and humble intelligence,
If they can handle the spice,
If they can take a hit,
If they are turned on by women who are confident,
I can’t stop thinking about what it might feel like,
To satisfy my kink for genuine connection,
To have a conversation that turns my mind on again,
To find comfort in the arms of a sensitive man,
I can’t stop thinking about feeling protected,
By a man who holds my best interests,
And can help me learn to love myself,
Who craves my mind,
And is in awe of my sex.

 

If you like this article, check out: https://www.harnessmagazine.com/women-are-not-property/

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by AimesBoh

Amy Bohannan is a writer based in Portland, Oregon. Although she grew up in the Bay Area of California, she refuses to go back to the state she came from, much to the frustration of native Portlandians.

She writes poetry and practices daily stream of consciousness writing, in an effort to better understand herself and the rest of this crazy world. You can find her work in The Tulane Review, on her blog, and scattered across pages of the internet.

When she is not typing her life away, Amy enjoys dancing and long walks with her best friend Johnny -- a “career changed” Guide Dog for The Blind. Johnny reminds her every day that sometimes failure can be the best thing for you in life.


Website

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