what you refuse to understand
is my desires have nothing to do with you
but I have entertained this train wreck interaction
believing the conversation would be
well, not this
not this simple
not this you trying to degrade me
make me feel less than
but what you don't seem to get
is that in order for your words to sting
for your teeth to make purchase
you have to bite harder and mean it
plunging you blade of stupid in my back
only works if you are sharp
which you are not
but you think you are
which is sad
but there you are standing there
wrapped in cluelessness
trying to school me on shit you don't know
your thrift store psychology fails you
and as you lose confidence in your own brand
of bat shyt crazy
you decide to go to the bottom of your dumb bucket
attempt to crab barrel drag me to your level
And your only come back is
"only lazy women become lesbians
it takes work to find a man"
my first thought was
what the fuck is wrong with this person
my next fuck this person
when I stare this time I am imaging
the exhausted hamster wheeling in your brain
you know what you've said makes no sense
but you hold on to it like an ugly baby
trying to protect it from those who might call it what it is
I tell you more than I should
two marriages three kids a leap from the closet
later and I am oddly pleased and not surprised
to learn that I am no longer as lazy,
like that,
but the men I found were not good men
grinning in the direction of the man who talks down to you,
cheats on you and whose wardrobe is the definition of misogyny
the same man who hit on me
then showed his entire ass
when I suggested he introduce me to his sister
she'd have a better chance
When I grow bored of the no longer
even slightly entertaining conversation about nothing
I tell you I'm done going to take my lazy ass
to the dyke bar
a little karaoke and beer
you gush tell me how you've always wanted
to go to a gay bar grinning at me like I just issued an invitation
so you want to be lazy with me?
I lie
tell her it's like a club
there are secret handshakes and shit
and I decide to not have conversations
about sexuality with people who don't
even know what that is
later
a cold beer in my hand
I sing my favorite Cranberries song
thinking how I spent most of my evening
then it hits me
the zombie apocalypse isn't the eating of brains
it's the people who don't use theirs
and the Cranberries had been saying this for years
it is in your head
in your head
zombie, zombie, zombie, ie, ie
well played Cranberries
well played
*insert guitar solo*
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