Afraid

I’m not scared of black men or white men
Or right men or wrong men
I’m not scared of that burly guy or the one who always sits alone in the corner
I’m not afraid of those men

I’m afraid of straight men

Their heteronormativity makes me uneasy
It makes me walk to my car alone at night with my keys squeezed between my fingers
Like Wolverine if he were afraid of the dark
Or the things that walk there spouting “bro”

They make me afraid of my own hands and weak wrists
Of my hands and his hands and they make us keep them at our sides
When we just want to walk and be free and freely hold our hands
Hand in hand with his hand and not be afraid

But I am afraid

I’m afraid of looks on faces with fist like swords and maces
Afraid of boots and taste of boots on faces and feeling the feeling in my face fade
I’m afraid of them these so called “normative” men
I’m afraid of them because they make me afraid to be simply me

I don’t like being afraid.

I know that I know that it is wrong to fear a group just like it is wrong to group
My father was a straight man and his father before him and I am not afraid of them
But still I feel the fear like pricks and pins on the back of my head when they walk too close
Straight men scare me and I know that is wrong

But that doesn’t make me any less afraid.