my grandfather asked me
"is there any man in your life now?"
almost as if i'd never be whole on my own
i say,
"no, i don't have time for games"
looking at my grandmother,
who raised two boys alone
who's called "honeybun" like it's an insult
who let a man come back to the home she made
(without him)
reminds me how sickening it is
that it's believed i'd never be whole on my own
'no, actually, i don't have time to play games of
"i love you" today
"i'm leaving" tomorrow
i'm a challenge or a handful for most men at best
i don't beg
i don't plead, or bargain
and i sure as fuck don't compete
using hyper-independence as an intimidation tactic drives away
weak
egotistical
conceited men'
looking at my grandmother reminds me that
no man, who walks away over challenge is worth the peace that comes with following her advice:
"feel 'em, fuck 'em and forget them."
Tags:
creative writing
poetry prompt
love
old flame
