Confessions of a Misogynist (or the problem with rape culture according to Paul.)

I raped a woman last night.

I took everything beautiful about her and wrapped it up in a preconceived idea of what a woman should be

Like squeezing the life of out a ripened fruit to get at the juice knowing damn well that the whole would serve a healthier purpose but to be honest I was thirsty.

So my mind did what my hands were unable to do being bound by my mother’s upbringing

I stuffed her in a box, with walls that knew how to shift sizes in case I ingested information that required room to grow within the limits I designed

I took her potential and plucked the plumage from the tissues of her God given instruments of flight

I stole a torch from a goddess only to give her back an ember to kindle into a hearth just to keep her heart warm towards me

Just to keep the light in her eyes subject to my every desire, willing to brighten up a room if I asked it to and obedient enough to dim and fade into darkness because I demanded it

And I did all of this in the first 15 minutes I knew her.

I took her measurements just to make sure the shackles and chains would fit, loose enough to let her think I wasn’t putting her on a leash but tight enough to remind her what I meant when I said she was mine.

I practically forced myself on her, penetrating the walls I’m sure she built to keep men and monsters alike out, I fashioned myself a Titan, diving through defenses and feasting on her weakness

Just before I delivered the seed that would sprout and bear bittersweet offspring, where she was once destined to be pregnant with promise

Her womb could’ve held heaven, but men aren’t taught to love God we’re instructed to fear it without knowing the respect attached and thus we rebel and attack any evidence of divinity

We don’t care about the impact as long as they fall for us, we’d burn down eden and replant our own flawed version of a forest

Because all boys are taught to honor is the concept of control, from our lessons even to the remotes we play games with

Until we grow up and forget that reality lacks cheat codes.

There’s no easy road when it comes to nurturing a lovers soul and yet we’d rather speed down the highway to hell instead of climbing a stairway to heaven just for the cause of perpetually instantaneous gratification even though it always seems to fade soon after the damage is done.

I took everything good about a person who had every right to be as her parents intended or like her heavenly father encoded in the mystery of her femininity

And rather than let her be my equal I reserved her a seat at my side yet elevated where the only thing eyes could see were my feet.

And im sorry. But that’s the problem with being a man these days. Our mothers teach us to treat the younger versions of themselves in other forms sweetly while our father’s if we’re lucky to have their input teach us the value of commanding anything and everything at our grasp

Yet society tells us that life is ala carte

That the prefix I or my before every popular product available is indicative that ones singular desires are the only kinds to keep in mind and thus we walk around as though we shaped the world in 6 days and took a second before the seventh to instill our perverse ideals in the dna of the ones destined to be our other halves

culturally were blasphemous bastards unworthy of blessings from above yet mercy keeps us from oblivion and still were blissfully unaware of the time bombs we’ve become in how we treat each other especially those we claim to love.

So yes I raped her. And she ain’t even know it. No roofie required, all it took was her smile to show that my words slid inside her head and all I needed to say was go and she’d immediately become less than what she expected to be and more than what a man like me deserves

My only saving grace is I pulled out before my venom could be expelled and thus I wounded her but I’d rather do short term pain to the peace between us than to ruin her.