Before You Go Tripping In Love

He looks at you.
Smiles,
the gaze with the half lidded eyes;
He sees you,
As you.

When you don’t see him,
his eyes
are plastered open:
He tells his friends
about you;
As a thing to possess.

And in that neon bright room
with burning minds,
the questions begin;
You’re on the table
as an insect,
dissected.

The way your legs curve,
or your hands;
He calls them ugly,
they laugh;
And they think about you,
as an object.

And the next day,
your cheeks are pink tinged;
You confess an attraction,
his friends will hear it
tonight.

He’s shiny and penny bright,
and worth just as much.
You’re a story to
high five over;
I’m telling you child,
trust not him
nor you,
open your eyes.

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. emphadiate says:

    I agree with aphroditeanderson! And you’ve put it beautifully.

  2. Men are such jerks sometimes 😦

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