Don't.
There's a word for you, a word I like, a word you treasure.

*****.

A five-letter fantasy of brute force,
a word too appropriate for a girl like you.

You say it's for the laughs
a "term of endearment"
only true affection could contradict.
Yet with it, you can shut me down
convince the world I'm wrong
spin the story as you like—
all with a smile on your face.

Naturally, I do the same
with a tone that seems sarcastic
the word itself less frequent.

I like its flavor
so effortless.

We think ourselves clever
hearing others call us "cute"
but of neither term are we deserving.

We're still ******.

For neither of us is beautiful,
neither of us could hold the weight of the world,
and neither of us is worth ****.


At least I admit it.