Asshole (A Poem)

You ask,

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” What pretentious attempted seduction...

As if I’ve never heard it,

As if I've never seen a mirror.

Well shucks, 

Golly gosh, 

Gee willikers, 

You really think so, mister?

Now, I am blessed with the giddy freedom

That only comes with the knowledge,

That you'd be so generous as to fuck me.

If you can only remark on how I look...

Save it.

I’ve heard the same lines a million times

And I am acutely aware of what I look like.

I work very hard,

To look like this on purpose.

As I age I grow hostile

Toward men who only skate my surface

They never think to peek inside...

Beyond this thirst trap exterior,

I am more powerful than you realize!

The day I sprouted breasts They sought me as a prize 

In a twisted game of catch and release,

A competition between the opposite sex,

I’ve seen their tactics, and frankly:

I’m unimpressed.

Oh, you say you aren’t like most guys?

Which is a thing that most guys say,

As if insulting other men

makes you look better.

Cutting down other men

Does not make you appear taller,

It just makes you an asshole.

You say,

“I won't use you...like, I'm sure, all the rest...”

I know this may blow your mind,

But plenty of men listen to me

Without trying to fuck me.

Basic respect is required... Not a special treat.

In fact, your smug assuredness

that being interested in what I have to say

Is somehow so remarkable

I should be impressed

Makes you an asshole.

Worse than the rude and crass,

Men that appear to rise above

The kind that call fucking “making love”.

If you have to tell me how nice you are...

You’re not. You’re manipulative.

Nice men are like the well-hung, as in,

If it is true, they do not need to tell me.

As Roosevelt would know,

Those carrying the big sticks 

Speak softly. 

And the same is true of kindness.

Besides…

If being nice is your best selling point,

You’re mediocre.

And thinking anything short of abuse is heroic,

Makes you an asshole.

Why don’t you tell me something real:

How my confidence intimidates you,

I am full of life in the darkest hours,

And I give hugs people remember.

I can crack open, vulnerable, In a room full people,

I survived hell and high water,

And I give my power away to no man.

You won’t tell me any of that, because you don’t even know.

You'll never find out, either.

You make me want to roll my eyes

So far in the back of my head, they stick there.

And if you think I’m a bitch to tell you this…

That’s ok,

Because I think you’re an asshole.