I must be honest. I have been putting this off. The writing of this. Why? Such is the fear of misstepping, I suppose. Political topics are fearful to me. I did two degrees on this subject; the most this has done is place me into a space of ambiguity on blurred topics. I am a fence sitter now.
I was speaking to a friend about this. She felt the same but hoped that it would decrease with age. Perhaps, yes. One can only hope.
Admitting this is not a particularly joyous moment for me. I dislike being a fence sitter. It is a shameful existence. I want to be a side-taker. A defender. I respect people who vehemently defend; their thinking is so clear. How does one think with such clarity? I manage to tie myself into knots, lose myself in tensions I have created, and find myself in points which don’t clearly link.
I have some of those beliefs I am clear on, but far fewer than I would like.
I have digressed. You now see the problem.
Anyway.
This piece is on femininity, fear, and victimhood. It is a poetic essay. The method of this piece was simple: to speak to women who have something to say on fear, victimhood or victims. Thus, to the women I spoke with, I thank you. It is in the communing over our shared experience that poetry births. We sit in spaces of creation, for it is what we know: to create and to be.
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I am a knot in the throat of a what
1. I am, Not. I am a no. I am a negation. I am a mirror. I am a voice screaming in terror. I am a plea. I am a dream Of a femininity Lived differently. I am a knot in the throat Of a what. Is this the nature of things, The fear that a shadow brings At the corner of my eye When the sun is still high? 2. We sit between a binary Which is not all that clean On one side, we will be heroes Without the emergence story. On the other, we will be the Weeping prisoner Who's in it for the glory. We will not be a victim Of your words. We will take this yoke When we are through This side of truth. 3. I feel unbecome. I have unraveled under The weight of a notion This -hood is too much For me to say. I will keep it at bay Until I take it I own it. 4. I have made myself hoarse In taking this bitter cud I chew and chew Until I am silenced. And, I am owned. I cannot breathe it. I am stuck between words. I am in this space Where sense leaves. I am a femininity Taken to the extreme Under conditions Of censorship. I remove myself As I masticate. It sticks to my teeth. I am a knot In the throat of a what. 5. You cannot name him, This proximity to your lips Makes you sick. His name will never leave This space again. You note: You are not a surviver You do not sit in a space with winners Or losers. Instead, 6. We are a knot In the throat of what’s. Who’s are lost. Covered under our Closing eyelids Over the sounds of Accusing lies Them, the ‘lost’ The hidden. 7. We spit at your feet. We will eat you like air. We will take your ribs Use them to cut our knots From your throats. We masticate you In our sleep.
8.
Victimhood and female fear are particularly difficult to write about. I do not wish to overstate the fear experienced by some females, nor do I wish to link fear and weakness (that’s part of the problem).
I do not, I do not,
I do not, and
a knot forms in my own denial.
I do not wish to say victimhood is easy, nor to say that it is wrong, nor do I wish to say it is right. It is a condition that should be chosen but also one which is thrust upon us.
If ‘I do not’ too much, I risk removing anything of note from this poem. I risk saying nothing. I write in verse to say more than I can here. Victimhood is a condition of obscurity and ambiguity; thus, I must write it so.
9.
We are a knot in the throat of a what.
Let it choke them.
Thank you for reading this piece. If you are a victim, I hope that it reflects some modicum of your experience. If you enjoyed this piece, please consider subscribing to support writing like this.
Fence-sitter? Or keenly aware poet whose attunement to the complexity of reality is reflected in the mystery and knotty nots of her poetry?
I am a man, so my ability and platform to comment on this topic is limited. But to deny the existence and significance of what women have gone through, continue to go through, would be inappropriate.
Thank you for your significant and skillful piece, Saffron.
This is a gorgeous piece x