It may sound harsh
But it’s true.
I can’t divorce the word
“Disappointing”
Anytime I hear your name.

When my phone t9’s what I really want to say
into your name
It’s like a slap in the face
And I can still feel the sting
hours later.

When I run into you
On the streets
I wish It would be
like how I imagine it:
Where the empowered heroine
(that’s me)
Gives a look so piercing
It makes him shiver
And wallow in rebuke and despair.

Instead
I freeze up
Deer in headlights
Shocked and bewildered and delighted and horrified
All at the same time.

After all the **** you put me through
You can still do that to me.
It’s like magnetism or The Force
Or magical forces unexplained
And I stumble awkwardly
To get away.

My life is not a movie
And I am no heroine.
But at least
my name
Isn’t synonymous
with disappointment.