OH THE MANCHILD THAT YOU ARE— by Ujas

Skin-flower, glass, meat,
Voice—silence drowned below.
Hair—freedom at their feet,
Women—things men claim to know.
Men. The man that u are,
Filling the taste of poison in the air,
In what feels normal,
In the things I talk about and in my mind so bare.
All the world of men with lies,
Too weak to ever apologise.
All the suffering soaked in veins
Of raging women bound in chains.
Through the history long before time,
Free pass carved into every crime.
Because it’s women, all they are taught to hate,
The giver of life and the light of strength.
Yet still they cage what they cannot create,
And fear the fire they cannot hold at length.
Because it’s women, all they are taught to hate,
The giver of life and the light of strength.
Yet still they cage what they cannot create,
And fear the fire they cannot hold at length.
If men ever walked in her shoes,
They would cry and scream and lose their sense,
Drown beneath the weight women endure,
And crumble against years of violence.
If I ever spoke it without restraint,
I’d tell you what silence paints:
Crushed bones, eyes, soul, and blood—
Not metaphor, but what remains.
So tell me—why?
Are you defending a mistake?
Unstable in mind?
Or just the human shape of a snake?
Forgive me, snakes, for the comparison.
No creatures wound the world like men.
Even the devil fears human hands,
Then hides in hell to feel pure again.