By Mel Berill
[TWs: misogyny, classism, ableism]
come back and tell me
you don’t like safe spaces
when you know what it’s like
to feel unsafe
when you’ve walked down a street
where you’re not human
but a piece of public flesh
when you’ve explained you’re ill
for the thousandth time
and you know half the world still thinks it’s fiction
when you know for sure
that if some people got their way
you’d have even less to live on
than you do now
when your home is not
cosy and safe
when your words are not
worshipped and valued
when your body is not
important.
come back and tell me then
that I’m not allowed a space
where people have agreed to respect me
and I them.
where people try not to hurt me
and I them.
where I can listen to people
who need safety more than me
and let their words
sit above mine.
where, sometimes, it’s all right
for me not to speak
or even be there
because I’m white
and cis
and I can know that sometimes, to keep people safe
i must keep quiet.
when you know what it’s like to need that space
come back and tell us we can’t have it.
come back and tell us then.
you will, of course
you’ll come back louder, stronger
full of bile
and make us listen
in your column
on your platform
through your megaphone
’til it’s deafening.
that’s why we need spaces
where we can’t hear you.
and fuck you
we’re going to make them.