To the 2am~ Fuck you (a poem)

To the 2 am text~ Fuck you….no seriously….fuck you.

To the men who see a picture of me online and feel compelled to tell me

that I have a nice rack as if the fact that I have breasts gives you the right

to objectify me for your sex.~ Fuck you

To the men who wish to confide in me, telling me their

deep, dark, dirty secrets without any other context

except to feel the rush of using such explicit content to

cheap thrill themselves at my expense ~Fuck you

To the men who are drawn in by said curves and wicked green eyes

are you not aware that a flesh and blood, hope breathing, all feeling soul

is trapped inside?~ Fuck you

To the men who have seen fit to weave tales and spin lies

in order to get that prize reward between my thighs~ Fuck you

This girl’s got fire coursing through her veins and every time one of you

sees fit to reduce me to observations about my physicality

a little bit of that flame struggles to survive.

Let me put this in terms you can comprehend~

I see your 2am and I raise you a 2pm,

face to face

I want you to look at me and repeat the things you text

to see if there’s still bravery in your eyes

typing on that tiny, little screen, holding your tiny, little …well you get the idea

because the only connection I am looking to make

is the kind of love that will take EVERY shape,

And know this,

the kind of love I make will shake your core,

will leave you hearing notes in songs

you didn’t even know could be played,

will have you seeing each sunrise

and each sunset like the beginning of a novel that you never want to forget,

you see, the kind of love I can give happens between all the numbers on the

clock’s face

and in every minute and every second in between

So to the 2am~ fuck you.




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