�

in high school,

i intimidated men.

my words were sharp,

i didn�t hide behind them like some girls

but i didn�t always believe the anger in my voice,

like some girls

i didn�t see my voice, my words, my way of looking at things

as powerful.

i saw myself as cruel,

as hateful.

i blamed my relationship with my father.

i blamed the way we were strangers walking down the hall,

footstep after footstep,

never saying everything that came to mind,

never saying the right words

to build a steady bridge with which to cross over,

we were always on different shores,

under the same roof,

but on different shores.

i never felt hate for him,

i never felt like i was lacking something without him in my life,

lacking the kindness that would make me smile at men who pretended to be walls,

lacking the kindness that would make me pull my skirts up higher,

to make them let me pass.

i never felt like i was lacking sexuality or instinct.

and after i finally realized that i was lacking everything,

i felt so alone.