"I don't hate men!" it's  just that  well  you see
what's left for me to admire of them?
and I'm tired of playing the jester, I'm tired of playing the host
the mother, babysitter, designated driver, *** toy, but never really a person
always just something to touch
curves to caress and grab and strike
I mean he never cared about my tears or pleas, and I cried every time
still wounded by the irony of planning a future with a man who hasn't yet learned to love
still ****** from the chances I gave and excuses I made, undeserved
gut-punched from the text 'we've had so many conversations about how you deserve better'
and even now I still wish him the best
"I think I'm just more comfortable around women" I explain.