The Comfort Zone Of A Rampant Misogynist: A Poem

I thought you were just eating your food.

You were undressing and eating women up

With your eyes, making arrangements behind her

Back, fingers crossed, I love you, shoving your tongue

In the female sex whenever you felt unseen.


You licked your mouth when you saw the friends

That I brought home, the bad girls, whores,

As you called them so naturally, saying that they’d take your cock

If you tried to seduce them. Those were your thoughts

And you exposed them to me. But I saw only you,

You and your revolting faces, your uncontrollable mouth and

Your double-standard-infested brain that dropped into your

Pants whenever a girl or woman (didn’t even matter) passed you by.


We were ashamed of one another.

Your face didn’t hide your thoughts.

It was never enough, you always wanted more,

All legs needed to be spread on your path.


You thought sexuality was reserved for men.

Not for daughters.

But for women that you fucked

And then they immediately became whores,

You would never be one.

You never accepted my sexuality.

You told me that I looked like a whore too.

That I acted like one. Aged twelve.

Those were your words. Sinking into my body.

Never talking to me about sex, the female body, or

How to take care, nothing.

You just insulted me and women in general.

Saying men only want one thing.

You spoiled everything, you,

The bitter root infecting everything around you.

monochrome photo of woman
Photo by Artem on


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