You taught me to say “yes”
For all the times I wanted to say “no”.
My yes-saying duty was linked to my sex by you.
That “yes” had nothing to do with agency, autonomy.
Not the result of an inner consultation,
A contemplation, the indulgence of a feeling, desire, “no”.
It was a prescription, always a priori, predetermined, generic, “yes”.
I had to say “yes” to make lives easier, not mine.
I saw “no” as the devil.
My own, “no” has severe consequences to my disadvantage.
“No” does not please anyone.
“No” is not polite.
You taught me a language that finds no alignment within my body.
You made me ingest transformative files and scissors.
Cutting off the words I intend to say,
Smoothening the edges of my vocabulary.
Was it your goal to make me three heads shorter?
To become an easy prey to predators?
What were you thinking, you, who shares the same sex? I really wonder.
What good did it do?
They are either agitated, excited or bored; they reach all these stages, no matter what.
So why bother? Why censor my thoughts, my revolts, my reservations?
You wanted to evoke a world of unaware knowledge.
Silent tongues, bound, feathers, paralysed, stuffing the oesophagus.
There is one word for everything,
A passe-partout. You have attached a marathon of guilt to my usage of the word “no”.
Nobody survives without it, its utterance, its true meaning.
You sent me to two-headed beasts and took away my weapons beforehand.
“Yes” implies submission, thoughtlessness, carelessness, indifference, no inner
Controversy, surrender. It shouldn’t be that way. “Yes” should be a good thing.
An affirmation that is meant to come from deep within, proof of sincerity,
Of contemplation, of agreement, of anticipation, involvement,
Standing on my own two feet without trampling on my own heart.
“No” should have served its proper purpose too, and you made demons of them both.
“Study – Head Of A Little Girl” by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905)