The savageness of being human

A contortion of years
Pass by on faces
For milliseconds at a time

Frankenstein’s skeletons within
Gargoyles screaming
Through the pores of our skin

Stories running through the wrinkles
Harbouring humour
Creasing at the thought of those we’ve lost

Skin sagging with the baggage
Being human
Consciousness a savage

Wreaking havoc
On our mammalian brains

Male baggage

Unzipping the baggage
Contained within
Only for you to recoil
And shove it back in.

“I was not prepared to hear over and over from men how the women – the mother, sisters, girlfriends, wives – in their lives are constantly criticizing them for not being open and vulnerable and intimate, all the while they are standing in front of that cramped wizard closet where their men are huddled inside, adjusting the curtain and making sure no one sees in and no one gets out. There was a moment when I was driving home from an interview with a small group of men and thought, Holy shit. I am the patriarchy. Here’s the painful pattern that emerged from my research with men: We ask them to be vulnerable, we beg them to let us in, and we plead with them to tell us when they’re afraid, but the truth is that most women can’t stomach it. In those moments when real vulnerability happens in men, most of us recoil with fear and that fear manifests as everything from disappointment to disgust.” Brene Brown