I woke up this morning and I could barely breathe.
Somewhere between a breath and a wheeze, I said enough.
Enough.
Lip service.
All I get is fucking lip service.
If you gonna be flapping like that at least get on your knees,
Distract me from the mountains of bullshit pouring from your mouth to stink up my ears.
When we met promises fell from your lips like golden rain drops.
Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what you can have.
Maybe I heard what I wanted to hear;
Believed what was expedient to my ends.
I let myself open.
Head turned, spun all the way around.
I put on your apron when you promised me a crown.
Stretching and tugging these two ends to meet in the middle.
I woke up and what was stretched was me.
Stretched out, spread thin on the altar of reality,
My dreams burning around me like so much tinder.
My tears drying before they fall,
Incinerated by sheer disgust.
Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what you can have.
I keep coming back to that sentence.
Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what you can have.
That’s what you said to me the day we met.
You were so smooth, so handsome, so confident.
Tell me your dreams, trust me with your heart.
Yeah, you played your part.
Cast my role and stuck me in it.
I was so sure so positive of you.
I was proud to have you on my arm.
I remember I couldn’t wait to see the preacher man.
I wanted to show him my blessing.
I walked down the aisle, kissed you like I meant it.
Cooked your favorite meals,
Tried all of your positions.
Competed with online whores for your attention.
I took low so you could be the head, your alleged position.
Bit my tongue almost through, on my knees I vented.
Praying to the Lord, begging for His intervention.
I married a man and woke up next to a boy, Lord.
I’m paying penance for something, I’m not sure what.
Impatience, hubris, perhaps lust?
I admit it, I wanted you; I loved when you hit it.
Now when you touch me all I can think is,
Is this it?
Is this what I sacrificed for?
I need a man in my bed and Bob does it better.
I don’t expect Bob to do anything other than what he does.
Bob never pretended to be anything beyond his warranty.
I’m just tired of being tired.
Tired of hearing excuses and asking to be excused.
Excuse me for wanting the man you pretended to be to show up.
I call roll every day and that motherfucker ain’t never in attendance.
Just this shell of a man, joystick in hand,
Looking at me like with confusion.
I am at a loss, I’m confused.
I’m sick and I’m tired of being used and neglected.
You love me?
So what?
What does love have to do with it?
Seriously, I’m asking.
Does love shelter me, protect me, cherish me?
In this house love is me forgiving you for tainting my life with foolishness.
Love is irresponsible and selfish.
Love is petulant and mean.
Love is full of shit.
Fuck you, I say, and again I say,
Fuck you.
You sorry, trifling ass, lazy motherfucker.
Do you care how much you’ve hurt me?
Do you care that I love you?
Hell, no.
What does love have to do with it?
In the face of your love my love cooks your meals.
My love encourages you when you’re down.
My love shows compassion and mercy,
When my anger says “Fuck it all.”
My love surrenders, when my mouth wants to fight.
When words form in my mind to tear you down,
My love pulls me away.
Love leads me to hold my tongue and be careful what I say.
The love I have shown you…
Oh, the love I have showered you with in the face of inconsiderate brutality.
The love…
Am I supposed to be miserable forever, tied to a man I am not in love with?
Oh.
You thought because I love you, I am also in love with you.
In love with a mirage?
So sad.
No, dear, that has passed.
I will love you forever, but in love with you?
In love with someone who values me so little?
I would be a fool.
In love with a child?
No, love, no.
I was in love with the character you portrayed, but he lacked staying power.
The real you showed up and for him I feel pity and mercy.
To have such great love staring you in the face.
Offered unselfishly; unconditionally, and lack the wisdom to recognize and appreciate it.
To lack the ability to value what another man would treasure.
Do you know the lioness that was in your corner?
The warrior at your back?
I would have sacrificed almost anything for you.
I was prepared to make your dreams my dreams.
Fulfill your wishes.
Truly for you I would…
I would anything to enhance your happiness.
Anyway, for your smile.
For you I simply, would.
Since I was a little girl,
My dream was to be wife to a strong and fierce man; a warrior.
I never wanted a prince on a white horse,
Pampered and cosseted.
I wanted the knight, sword in hand,
Able to survive the trenches of life.
Not simply able, but eager to slay life’s dragons.
Ready to protect and shelter me.
A simple dream really, metaphorical.
I thought you were my dream come true and I was willing to build new dreams with you.
Yet here I find no dreams, but a wasteland.
A displaced prince hiding behind my skirts looking to me to slay the dragon.
Looking to me to be the hero.
If I have to do the rescuing, why do I need a man?
Because I love you?
Sad.
Didn’t you hear me?
Didn’t you hear Tina?
What’s love got to do with it?
What’s love but a second hand emotion?
Some ol’ bullshit people sing about and bitch ass men pretend to feel,
To trap silly ass females into a shitty ass marriage.
Ah, you have hurt me.
Yes, my heart bleeds, but anger would cauterize the wound.
Turning that once strong muscle into an angry black mass of scar tissue, impenetrable by any man.
Men disdain gold diggers, whores.
I admire them.
They get what the fuck they want and move on.
They don’t get stuck playing house with Ms. Thelma’s silly ass son.
A whore will take his money and send him home to Ms. Thelma.
I’m not ready to play whore, but you can go.
Go back home to your mama.
Let her finish raising you, if she can.
Hell, I don’t care if she can or can’t;
Just go back to her.
I’m done playing mama to a grown ass man.
©Pamela Shropshire 2011
Somewhere between a breath and a wheeze, I said enough.
Enough.
Lip service.
All I get is fucking lip service.
If you gonna be flapping like that at least get on your knees,
Distract me from the mountains of bullshit pouring from your mouth to stink up my ears.
When we met promises fell from your lips like golden rain drops.
Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what you can have.
Maybe I heard what I wanted to hear;
Believed what was expedient to my ends.
I let myself open.
Head turned, spun all the way around.
I put on your apron when you promised me a crown.
Stretching and tugging these two ends to meet in the middle.
I woke up and what was stretched was me.
Stretched out, spread thin on the altar of reality,
My dreams burning around me like so much tinder.
My tears drying before they fall,
Incinerated by sheer disgust.
Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what you can have.
I keep coming back to that sentence.
Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you what you can have.
That’s what you said to me the day we met.
You were so smooth, so handsome, so confident.
Tell me your dreams, trust me with your heart.
Yeah, you played your part.
Cast my role and stuck me in it.
I was so sure so positive of you.
I was proud to have you on my arm.
I remember I couldn’t wait to see the preacher man.
I wanted to show him my blessing.
I walked down the aisle, kissed you like I meant it.
Cooked your favorite meals,
Tried all of your positions.
Competed with online whores for your attention.
I took low so you could be the head, your alleged position.
Bit my tongue almost through, on my knees I vented.
Praying to the Lord, begging for His intervention.
I married a man and woke up next to a boy, Lord.
I’m paying penance for something, I’m not sure what.
Impatience, hubris, perhaps lust?
I admit it, I wanted you; I loved when you hit it.
Now when you touch me all I can think is,
Is this it?
Is this what I sacrificed for?
I need a man in my bed and Bob does it better.
I don’t expect Bob to do anything other than what he does.
Bob never pretended to be anything beyond his warranty.
I’m just tired of being tired.
Tired of hearing excuses and asking to be excused.
Excuse me for wanting the man you pretended to be to show up.
I call roll every day and that motherfucker ain’t never in attendance.
Just this shell of a man, joystick in hand,
Looking at me like with confusion.
I am at a loss, I’m confused.
I’m sick and I’m tired of being used and neglected.
You love me?
So what?
What does love have to do with it?
Seriously, I’m asking.
Does love shelter me, protect me, cherish me?
In this house love is me forgiving you for tainting my life with foolishness.
Love is irresponsible and selfish.
Love is petulant and mean.
Love is full of shit.
Fuck you, I say, and again I say,
Fuck you.
You sorry, trifling ass, lazy motherfucker.
Do you care how much you’ve hurt me?
Do you care that I love you?
Hell, no.
What does love have to do with it?
In the face of your love my love cooks your meals.
My love encourages you when you’re down.
My love shows compassion and mercy,
When my anger says “Fuck it all.”
My love surrenders, when my mouth wants to fight.
When words form in my mind to tear you down,
My love pulls me away.
Love leads me to hold my tongue and be careful what I say.
The love I have shown you…
Oh, the love I have showered you with in the face of inconsiderate brutality.
The love…
Am I supposed to be miserable forever, tied to a man I am not in love with?
Oh.
You thought because I love you, I am also in love with you.
In love with a mirage?
So sad.
No, dear, that has passed.
I will love you forever, but in love with you?
In love with someone who values me so little?
I would be a fool.
In love with a child?
No, love, no.
I was in love with the character you portrayed, but he lacked staying power.
The real you showed up and for him I feel pity and mercy.
To have such great love staring you in the face.
Offered unselfishly; unconditionally, and lack the wisdom to recognize and appreciate it.
To lack the ability to value what another man would treasure.
Do you know the lioness that was in your corner?
The warrior at your back?
I would have sacrificed almost anything for you.
I was prepared to make your dreams my dreams.
Fulfill your wishes.
Truly for you I would…
I would anything to enhance your happiness.
Anyway, for your smile.
For you I simply, would.
Since I was a little girl,
My dream was to be wife to a strong and fierce man; a warrior.
I never wanted a prince on a white horse,
Pampered and cosseted.
I wanted the knight, sword in hand,
Able to survive the trenches of life.
Not simply able, but eager to slay life’s dragons.
Ready to protect and shelter me.
A simple dream really, metaphorical.
I thought you were my dream come true and I was willing to build new dreams with you.
Yet here I find no dreams, but a wasteland.
A displaced prince hiding behind my skirts looking to me to slay the dragon.
Looking to me to be the hero.
If I have to do the rescuing, why do I need a man?
Because I love you?
Sad.
Didn’t you hear me?
Didn’t you hear Tina?
What’s love got to do with it?
What’s love but a second hand emotion?
Some ol’ bullshit people sing about and bitch ass men pretend to feel,
To trap silly ass females into a shitty ass marriage.
Ah, you have hurt me.
Yes, my heart bleeds, but anger would cauterize the wound.
Turning that once strong muscle into an angry black mass of scar tissue, impenetrable by any man.
Men disdain gold diggers, whores.
I admire them.
They get what the fuck they want and move on.
They don’t get stuck playing house with Ms. Thelma’s silly ass son.
A whore will take his money and send him home to Ms. Thelma.
I’m not ready to play whore, but you can go.
Go back home to your mama.
Let her finish raising you, if she can.
Hell, I don’t care if she can or can’t;
Just go back to her.
I’m done playing mama to a grown ass man.
©Pamela Shropshire 2011
