Dear Jessica, 

 

What does a man feel like?

Is he soft like trampled moss?

Or scratchy like peeled back bark?

Does his smile warm your heart?

Or is it the rarest of gems,

reflected by the blue moonlight,

as you dance with the stars

playing you a tune so sweet

you both get cavities?

Does it rot with untold

affections, patched with

fettered I am fine's,

aching like a root canal?

 

What does a man talk like?

When he whispers the world?

When he shouts the dirty laundry?

Or when you tell him to leave,

with the stained brown paper bags,

grease seeped into the bottom?

On the 2 a.m. phone calls

going to no one?

 

Will you worry?

Or will you seethe?

With the nothings,

the dust in the winds,

the pasts no longer living with him?

Will he change for you?

Because you love him?

Because he's a man?

 

But you’re a woman.

So you'll vacuum up the crumbs of

him and you,

and slip through the door

you won't open again.

What is a man, 

without a woman?

 

Love,

A Stronger You