A Bear

A Bear

A man goes around asking women if they would rather be left alone in the forest with a man, or a bear.
A bear, she replies.
And even her heartbeat doesn't hesitate,
A bear.
Because at least a bear would leave my body alone
Once it has ripped out my bones.
I would rather be torn apart from the outside in,
Then the inside out.

At least a bear would kill me,
Would let my blood spill for the last time.
At least I wouldn't be trapped there for eternity
Forever forced to smell the pines
Whenever I close my eyes.
A man would never give me that luxury.

A bear, she replies.
Because at least then they would believe me.
If they see scars from claws rather than fingernails,
If they see bones poking from my skin,
There would be no denying the attack.
No denying the touch wasn’t welcomed.

At least a bear could not be part of my family tree.
My blood, inside of him,
In more ways than one.
A bear could not watch me sleep at night,
Perhaps listening to my breathing,
And salivating over memories I want desperately to forget.

A bear, she replies.
Because at least a bear’s brain cannot formulate fantasies of torture,
For it’s own pleasure.
A bear would murder me for its instinctual hunger,
For the primal growling in its stomach.
A man would choose.
Would be driven only by desire.
A man would willfully decide to fill himself up.
No matter how hungry he is,
Or how full she is.

Word count: 261
Date: May 1-8, 2024