you claim to be a “grown-ass man”, but in order to be

considered a “grown-ass man” you should

be able to live with yourself

be able to function without having your hand held each moment

be able to handle being alone every once in awhile

be able to let a lapse in conversation be silent,

right?

 

you cling so tightly, my dear,

and do all of the things that you promised you wouldn’t.

you run from any hint at

responsibility for your own actions-

accountability must sear your skin with a brand reading

“humility”.

you hogged any breath I exhaled,

thinking that some of it was yours, too.

 

you hunt for your peace of mind in the opposite sex

while ignoring your blatant need for a sense of self.

 

how can you expect a girl to want to Know you

when you don’t even try to Know them?

you kept it in the lower case to receive the benefits of my affection,

wrapped who I am in something soft so it wouldn’t hurt when you laid with me-

you called me mean when my edges wore through the blanket

like you didn’t know they were sharp in the first place.

you deceived yourself with what you wanted me to be,

so how am I the one to blame?

 

this is me trying to slap a bandage onto an itching wound;

it’s healing but going slowly and

all I need you to do is stop rubbing salt into it.

you say you are the victim here,

but are you really?

 

you don’t see me trying to ruin your reputation, do you?

you don’t see me lying about you, do you?

you don’t see me still trying to hurt you, do you?

 

if you’re a “grown-ass man”,

then you should be more than capable of handling

a strong willed woman.