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SILVER POLISH (A FAILED RELATIONSHIP IN 4 PARTS)

I. Shining Armor

 

To all those would-be knights in shining armore:

Make sure you have a goodly supply of silver polish on your person

Because this woman is sick and tired

Of all the tarnish she keeps running into.

 

Really.

 

Fakeness gets real old, real quick.

 

I ‘m looking for a man with manners, grace, respect and class.

Not someone who’ll ultimately turn out to be an ***

I’m not looking for too much I think.

In fact, I’d given up looking at all

Because the lot of them weren’t worth the flesh

God poured their sorry souls into.

 

Then, you came along,

Swept me off my feet with your Leo hurricane-force personality.

Fire sign burning through my resolves and inhibitions

Until there was nothing left

But trembling and desires and hidden fantasies

 

But I thought I saw something behind that solid wall of sexuality

A dark knight in shining armor

Intelligence in every timbered vibration fo your baritone voice,

Smooth like Barry white,

**** I thought, you are the whole package!

Family man, gentleman, talented artistic man

Man who said women were to be respected

As they were God’s gift.

 

How many men, afterall, would walk you to the bus,

Stand in front of you

So the sun didn’t glare in your face, facing west.

A glowing halo surrounded your head.

My angel, mon amour

My knight in shining armor.

 

 

II. Tarnish

 

Fast forward to today.

Man up,

Or move on out of my life.

I’ve waited a long time

For someone with manners, grace, respect, and class.

I’m not going to waste my time

Waiting on as ***

Not that you’ve been one, mon amour,

But I’m starting to see a little tarnish on your shining armor.

 

I try to be up front,

Give you the 411 on what’s going on

Is it too much to expect no less out of a relationship?

Honesty, communication

Lay everything on the line so no misunderstandings.

Maybe I’m setting myself up,

Blinded by the shine of your armor

And your promises spoken.

Soothed, hypnotized by the timbered vibration of your baritone voice.

Smooth like Barry White.

Okay, one more time, I will trust you.

On your knight’s honor,

My knight in slightly tarnished armor.

 

 

III. Tinfoil

 

I’m looking for a man

With manners, grace, respect, and class

Not someone who’ll ultimately turn out to be an ***

And you crossed that line.

The shine is gone,

And no amount of silver polish is gonna wipe clean your tarnish.

 

You see, there are two things I hold sacred in relationships:

Honesty and keeping promises,

Both of which you failed miserably at as a man.

Yeah I set myself up for a fall as well,

Expecting no less than what I put in myself.

 

But what good is being together

If you’re the only one putting for any effort.

A relationship is supposed to be give and take.

Not giving and giving and giving and giving

And getting nothing in return

But a bad player’s broken promises

And a broken heart.

 

Gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe

Has more integrity than you do.

You lied to me.

You put things off.

I would’ve had more respect for you

If you gave me straight talk about flings

Or things like “This isn’t working out”

Instead of sweet talk that left a bad aftertaste in my mouth like saccharin.

The only part of you that ever told me the truth

Was more than happy to stand at attention

And speak volumes

Without saying a word.

 

And speaking of “not speaking,”

You know what really takes the cake?

You didn’t even have the ************* *****

To tell me yourself.

I had to find out from someone else.

 

Some say more shall be revealed.

Boy, were my eyes opened to the fact

That sometimes a knight in shinign armor

Is sometimes just a ****** wrapped in tinfoil.

 

So, to all those would-be knights in shining armore:

Make sure you have a goodly supply of silver polish on your person

Because this woman is sick and tired

Of all the tarnish she keeps running into.

 

Really.

 

Fakeness gets real old, real quick.

 

 

IV. Press Seven

 

Seven.

Seven is my lucky number.

It helped me to slam the door on your sorry ***

And a chapter in my life I don’t care to re-read.

 

How dare you

Call up one day out of the blue

And drop a message on my voicemail.

The second I heard “Hi, it’s (insert name here)”

DELETE!

Seven dumped your *** faster than you dumped mine

Through a third-party representative.

 

I don’t want to hear any “Hi, How ya doin’s”

I don’t want to hear any reasons

Or excuses

Or glossing-overs of what you did.

 

I wasn’t kidding when I said

Fakeness gets real old, real quick,

And that goes for ***** like you.

I may be a big woman,

But I’m not the Big Easy.

I’m a woman of respect

And dignity.

 

So don’t bother e-mailing me.

Don’t bother calling me.

Delete me out of your rolodex

And go trolling down Fourth Street

If you want nothing but ***

 

****

Never did pressing 7 to delete you

Feel so ****** good.

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Written by
megan-milligan
American
Published
Aug 15, 2011
Lines·Words
132·870
Notes

© 8/23/2010

(rev. 5/26/2011, added part 4)

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