WE ARE AFRAID

We are afraid of our youth. For those older

than us envy it, have already had it, but

aren’t considered selfish to want a second-go. We

are afraid of not ever possibly being home-owners, for

that’s what those on the news have said, and we must

believe them (as we’re spoon-fed.)

We are afraid of our fertility, our reproductive inevitability, driven

into us like a knife in our back, the guilt that may come with it;

we are afraid of what if we don’t want kids? What if we aren’t motherly? We

are afraid of our parents’ disappointment. We are afraid that

we’ll grow up not-heterosexual. We are afraid of our grandparents won’t

know about us, the lies we’ll breathe like truth at family dinners, to save scaring

Grandma into a seizure. We are afraid of the hooded men, their can of Red Bull being

a weapon (it’s too dark to see.) We are afraid of the plastic, the turtles who breathe with

straws in their nostrils. We are afraid

of Tampon Tax, of political bastards knowing more of our menstruation than

those with blood-stained knickers. We are afraid

of the symptoms we Google, for headache must mean brain haemorrhage.

We are afraid of fucking it up.

 

(inspired by Jennifer Knox ‘We Are Afraid’)

 

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