He expects me to love him
like kids take to ice cream
and lick the drips, what nerve.
He finds it easy when I ask what
as he needs what I've got.
Even if it's with white knuckles turning blue,
as I can keep that act up for...
I wonder how many crumbs
he can drop until I make a cookie,
whole, relax a little
and throw out the self help books
that tell me not to label or define myself
based on men yet encourage that I can
trade in one asshole
to get some new asshole,
if I pretend that I taste like cake,
smell like flowers and
am smart but not intimidating,
brilliant but not so brilliant
they will have to read Freud
to get to the root of any