You want to know what I think is funny?
College Parties.
Seeing boys all juiced up with steroids to make their biceps bigger than their brains,
Seeing boys chug more beers than the amount of books they’ve read since middle school,
Seeing boys drown their problems in Hennessy straight from the bottle like their father did
because they aren’t anything less than their father,
Seeing boys fight other boys for no damn reason because God forbid they are seen as a “pussy,”
A “pussy.”
The one thing in this world that gave you life.
The one thing in this world that opened up like an oyster revealing a pearl to the world that’s
capable of anything
While your mother was screaming in pain from the nine months she spent carrying you around
With stretch-marked-stained hips,
With blistered feet,
To see what?
You drunk,
And stumbling around at a frat party?
Its funny that immasculinity is a boy’s biggest nightmare
Its funny when a woman walks up to the front door at a party only to get once-overed by some
idiot that clearly posses the knowledge to determine her worth,
To determine if she is “hot enough,”
A woman that spends her days plucking her eyebrows,
Painting her nails,
Shaving her legs,
Curling her hair,
Whitening her teeth,
Telling herself that no,
She is not hungry,
And no,
She is not thin enough,
And yes,
She can run that extra mile,
Because the sun is going to set,
And the time is going to come,
When she has to face reality
And look into the mirror
Too see thighs too big,
And boobs too small,
And shoulders too broad,
And face too fat,
And skin too infested with acne,
Acne that’s like a mask covering up the face that says,
“I’m pretty enough”
and “I’m confident enough”
because how can she say those things without a mask?
When the second she steps into a party,
She faces boys,
Boys that say her skirt isn’t short enough,
And her heels aren’t high enough,
And her tits aren’t put out in his face enough,
Because that’s why she’s there right?
Its funny,
To see a woman on her knees in a bacteria-infested bathroom,
Wearing nothing but a stained, shop-lifted dress
That’s she could not afford after buying make-up,
Make-up that covered the dark circles under eyes,
Dark circles under her eyes from staying up late,
Staying up late contemplating her life that had always seem to consist of her not fitting in,
Not fitting in with the other girls that were always so mean to her since she was only 13.
The confusion of what happened the night before,
With puke running down her mouth,
Like lava from a volcano
And an eruption full of vodka and tears,
Tears from the regret,
Regret from sleeping with some boy she barely knew,
Just to get invited to the next party,
To once again get once-overed by some idiot
To once again get too drunk and too high to find her way home,
How much did I drink last night?
Who was he and why can’t I remember how I got here?
Its funny,
That there are boys out there that don’t know the difference between flirting and talking
Between a slut and a woman that enjoys promiscuity,
Between yes and no,
Between yes and silence,
Between yes and unconsciousness,
Between drunk sex and rape,
Between moaning with pleasure and screaming with pain,
Its funny, boys,
That you probably didn’t even notice that I was calling you boys and not men.
Men wouldn’t do that,
And if you didn’t already know,
Its not that funny.