A Stunning Response to the People Who Say Men Can’t Be Raped

In response to women who say men can’t write about rape:

You are wrong.

Us, not so fair of sex, hairy beasts with gruff voices, and large limbs.

The only thing we can safely have is aggression, is pummel and pain.

I was 5’10 at 12 years old when I became a question mark.

Is you a boy or a girl? Why do you walk like that? Why your butt so big? Why you so black?

Your skin is haunted. You wanted it, right? You wanted it?

Did I hurt you? Man, I hurt you, but women are the one in three in four in five.

Some one-handed statistic that doesn’t tell our stories.

That makes this the only thing that you can claim, as if it were childbearing, but I am an anomaly.

Men can’t get raped. Boys always want it. Aggression is the only thing we safely have.

Me, a cousin, three of my exes, a best friend, three of his exes, another best friend, an old poetry coach.

This looks to be a really common rare thing, but men always want it.

Boys can’t say no. Aggression, aggression. I am still a question.

Did it happen when you were a kid?

Oh, well, that’s something else. Oh, other kids did it. That’s molestation.

Don’t worry yet, you weren’t a man so you didn’t lose anything.

This is where I turn myself into a question mark. I wanted it, right? I liked it? Did I say no and mean it? Did I mean it?

I am 6’3, 240 pounds, dark and heavy as old soot.

I’m a man now. This can’t happen to me. Men are stronger.

If it happened to me now, then I could not be stronger.

Aaron is a 5’3 china cabinet of a man.

An ex lover and in his mid 20s when his no and stop were turned to foreplay and harder.

What does that make him now? He cannot be a man.

If it happened to this me, now, what would I become? A boy’s bones draped in a man’s parade float skin? A monster, a failed excuse?

Was Mama’s miscarriage a bullet that fired three years too early? Is it justified because I’m gay?

Am I really gay or do I just get off on reliving my tragedies because women, men must have done this.

Women don’t rape, aunts aren’t uncles. You stupid fool.

Boys always want it. Men want it all the time. This is where I turn myself into an exclamation point.

No. I didn’t want it, but it happened and I am here.

We are not handfuls of coins tossed to some hungry fountains wet, no victim deserved the bolder burden of blame and then told we are an earthquake on a pebble.

An over exaggeration. Only allowed to feel aggression.

Now, women, look, I know. You all lose so much, but this is not only yours now.

I’m not trying to tell your stories, just please stop telling me what my story isn’t.