Men Congratulate Each Other for the Darndest Things

So many things

Like, little tiny things, and big things.

Beards, shirts, hobbies, interests,

Promotions, relationships, property ect.

It’s the little things that get me the most.

I’ve been treated like a lady my whole life, so

I guess I’m extremely aware

of the differences.

That’s what seems to make the most sense,

To me, right now.

Women are not so nice, to each other.

In my experience.

I have never minded, I love women and

I don’t think I am one.

I break guitars and fart whole melodies,

So when they made fun of me and

Played mean pranks on me I always just

Went along, hoping to catch a glimpse

Somebody’s tit. Right.

That’s bad. I’m not supposed to say that.

I guess I’m supposed to pretend like I wasn’t

Going through puberty surrounded by the sex

I really desperately wanted to play with.

It makes me a predator, to admit–

But they already knew, otherwise

they would’ve gone along with it.

Oh well. What was this poem about?

Right, men!

And the shit for which they blow each other.

Women don’t have the same mini game

Pre-loaded in our consoles.

The sexes have their own protocol,

They say there is balance, but I don’t know.

Men seem to get way more out of brotherhood

Than sisters get from sisterhood.

Depending on who you ask,

“It’s the opposite!”

I disagree, I have not benefited

From either of the sexes.

Maybe everyone feels the same,

But the shit I’ve heard men say

To one another about each other

Makes me wonder what I’ve been missing

While I’ve been addressing my gender

and redressing my sex.

I guess, what I’m really mad about

At the end of this identical day,

Is the emptiness I feel, being between–

A third-party candidate, stealing votes

From a more deserving cause.

Also I just wish someone, on either side

Would say that my chick-beard was hot.

Legit nobody ever compliments a woman on her beard

and means it!

Fucking trash, all of you,

the whole lot.

 

 

 

 

3 thoughts on “Men Congratulate Each Other for the Darndest Things

  1. Also it’s very peach-fuzzy and isn’t a coherent pattern. My partner plucks the weird dark neck pubes because they’re like, a completely different color and texture than everything else. Maybe if I decide to do hormones (appointment in a month) I will get a proper beard, and still identify as a chick, because nothing makes sense anyway. I am pretty sure I will always identify with the word “chick”

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