Women have no need for men. You are the
predator. Your weapons include Mentadent smiles, celebrity cologne, and
eyes that shine green when you think. I am a wounded antelope, limping
behind the herd. When you stop and stare with hunger, I become
petrified and can do nothing but smile back with my generic brand
toothpaste teeth and wait for you to pounce.
I will not go out with you. I do not need forced conversations about my
mother’s preferred nail polish and your father’s favorite football
underdog. I do not care about your past girlfriends, your car, or your
passion for poetry. I’m sure you do not care about my love of pottery,
pepperoni pizza, and ping pong. My heartbreaks always start over an
innocent dinner at a nice Italian restaurant, lunch at a quaint diner,
or brunch on the beach. How about coffee?
I will not relinquish a kiss.
The French cappuccino lingers on your breath. The whispers you slip
into my ear are saturated with foamy heat that dribbles past my cheek
and down my neck. My teeth ravage my chapped lips, in place of yours.
My tongue amuses itself with the ripples of my mouth, instead of yours.
I extend my hand for a shake, but I keep staring at a drop of coffee on
I will not let you touch me. You move forward and we begin to dance. A
sashay keeps me out of your arms, a spin protects me from your lips,
and a swaying back step presses me against a wall. Your callused hands
scratch my skin and your day-old stubble tickles my ear. My neck
You cannot come up to my apartment. My cat hates people,
even me. Going out for sushi was a bad idea, she’ll eat you alive. I
haven’t fed her in weeks and seaweed is her favorite. I have no night
cap to offer and my plumbing is backed up. My cat ate all my sexy
underwear, you don’t care?
I will not be used. You toss me aside and I spiral precariously towards
the ashes of desperation. The soot stains my nose and you jerk me back
up. Emotional whiplash prevents me from leaving, pins me to this life
that you allot for me. When it begins to wear, you repeat the process.
Up, down, cat’s cradle, dog-walking, I am your yo-yo.
I will not be abused. The bruises are from dance class, I have always
been a klutz. This scar is where I burned myself when I was making our
anniversary dinner. I must have dropped the pan full of grease on my
leg. These scratches are from my cat, she has always been very mean. I
would have her put to sleep, but it only happens when you’ve been
I will not have an abortion. We can handle a kid. We can name him after
your grandfather who taught you how to swim, or my aunt who made the
best cookies. Forever could start right now, isn’t this what you
wanted? A ball of love that keeps us up all night and poops on the rug?
A hairless puppy with a dry nose? I’ll make an appointment.
I will not
cry. I never cared about you. I didn’t even know you. The sex wasn’t
great and your feet smelled. You started to bald in the back of the
head, didn’t I tell you? You left the lid up, didn’t switch the
laundry, and always wanted to watch the History channel. You hogged the
covers, ate my desserts, and burped your ABC’s after it finished being
cute. I washed all my clothes and bedding after you left. Now all
that’s left to do is spray your cologne on my pillow, put on your
favorite shirt, and dance myself to sleep without letting you touch me.
( Grey LiesCollapse )