Culpability

Tessa Renken

How dare I?

 

How dare I feel the need

To be loved by the world:

Lessened in my attraction

For subsequent meaning?

 

How dare I exist

With such the same distress

Towards both matters

Of my perception?

 

Am I to judge myself

Along with the world,

Determine my worth

From the quality of

The visage I have made

To hide myself from

Their scorn?

 

Or rather,

From their indifference?

 

Would I value someone

Alone on the hope

They see in me

Some quality which deigns respect?

 

Should respect not be the right

Of all people?

Should not an acknowledgement

That we take up space on this planet?

 

How dare You.

 

For making us feel these things,

You for the forced laughs

You for the self-sacrificing level of our kindness

You for the thoughts we are worth less

You for the belief we must be impressive

You for the fear of being alone

 

You for the shame over our own bodies

You for the need to dream of when things are different.

 

I finally blame

You

For making me feel like I am worthy of criticism

for falling into the traps

You

have built

For us.

 

How dare

You.