No.
I don't want you
Though I want someone.
What I want is someone solid
Someone who will stand like a rock,
By my side forever.

You have done nothing
If not proven your fickleness.
Ever since I was yours
(and maybe even before)
Your habits have been
To fool around on your men.
Now you bear the weight,
For which I have no hate.
I still love you,
And no doubt,
I would love your child, too,
But I cannot commit to someone
Who has done what you have done.

You picked the father,
So why should I bother
When that father
Was another?

Not only that,
But you rejected me years ago.
I relive that day in my mind, you know,
And I cannot escape the damage you have done,
But I also cannot make you think you've won.

In consolation,
I pray you have a beautiful daughter
(or Son).
I hope you'll be good to your
Little one.

What is it about a man who's selfless
That makes everyone around them selfish?
Why is it that when someone gives of themself,
That everyone only takes?

There is no such thing as an unlimited supply.
For one to keep bleeding themselves empty,
They must be filled.

An empty pitcher cannot give anything more
Than the remainder of its body.
Yet you can expect a man to always give,
Without ever receiving anything more than what he gives?

I'm sorry,
A man who gives all of his lifeblood
And never receives in kind
Is a corpse
No matter how long you beg him
Wanting more.

I am nothing without someone who can make me into something.
Valuables aren't valuable unless the owner grants it value,
And so
I am worth nothing,
Because my owners have deemed it so.
They own my heart,
My soul,
My allegiance,
But they throw it around like it's disposable.

And so,
It is.

My disposable soul will gladly destroy itself for their whims,
Because they own me,
And they give me value.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
Just tease
And tease
And tease.
Never love,
Never please.

Irony
Is what I see.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
Say they want a man of quality,
But rarely stare
Too much higher than my knees.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
They always wanted me
To treat them well,
When all they'd gift to me
Was hell.

Who am I to these creatures
Besides some *** toy
That's too stubborn
To let them turn me on?
They don't want
My feelings,
My heart,
My humanity.
They just want my seed,
And I'm a farmer who won't sow.

Call me a 'misogynist'
For learning your tricks,
Your 'feminism'
Doesn't stick.

I'm sure women
Feel empowered
With you sleeping around
At the twilight hours,
With 'chauvinist pigs'
In your blankets.

'Mistreated' and 'stereotyped',
What you scream
When deemed unripe.

You blame them for
Not taking of refuse
And call them
'Trash'.
All your words should amount
To ash,
But somehow womanhood
Always makes you right,
Even when,
From end to end,
You
Were the only one fooling in the night.

A name I will never forget,
Boring into my skull like a drill.
Her face,
Her laugh,
Her talents,
Made me love her.

But all I got back was
Mindgames,
Abuse,
And contempt
For all of my love and devotion.

I'd love so much to hate her,
To hang her picture high
And toss her knives and darts
For abandoning all her friends
And the people who loved her like me.

But I can't will myself to do it.
So she will live on forever
In my tortured head.

Promises are words,
Not bonds.
As with other words
They can be shallow
Empty
Sarcastic
Meaningless.
So beware of promises,
Especially the implausible.
Fortunately,
Everyone can promise,
Even you.
So promise them back,
Give what they deserve.
Promises are words,
Not pacts.