Poems to the men who loved me.

Preface.

I was upset.
Wasn’t sure if it was your gray hair
Or the fact that you couldn’t see me
As an equal.

I was upset and obsessed.
At you and with you.
I used to see you so bold.
Like when you’re writing an essay
And you read it out loud
And you think: “wow, did I really write that?”

But it’s the idea of the essay
Rather than the content
What makes you fall in love.

You never loved me
And I was upset.

Mostly because I always thought you did.
In some weird, f-up way.

And, I’m not saying I loved you.
Nope- that’d be stupid.

I just want you to know.
This is an open book.
Like myself.
To every men like you.
That loved me,

Or that at least I thought they did.