“They don’t get to decide
Who you are
Based off of whatever fragment
Of you
They see.

“You’re you.
You’re not someone else
Just because someone thinks you are.
That’s a dangerous way of thinking.

“Honey, you cant keep letting people
Tell you what you are.
You don’t stop being you
Because they said you’re something else.
All they see are fragments,
Never the complete you.
So what right does anyone have
To tell you
What you are?

“Stop finding your identity
In other people.”

I knew what men were made of.
Clunky boots
And booming voices.
I knew that alcohol
And smoke
Ran through their veins.

It was truth to me,
Reality.
I understood
That men’s hands were rough
And unrelenting.
That comic books and video games
Are a tempting guise.
Men were made of anger
And demands.
***, power,
and the confusion of the two

But then I met you.
And you’re made of cigar smoke
And cartoons.
Flannel shirts and midnight laughter.
You’re whiskey neat
Gently touching my face
Simply for the pleasure of being near me.

You’re conviction
And ADD,
Religion and cups of black coffee.
I keep waiting for a break
In your love.
I search for the lie
In your kindness.
But you watch TV with your baby sister,
And look for solutions to my worries.
You laugh when I get hot under the collar
And insist on buying me chocolate,
Because you know I’m too polite to ask.

It’s nothing earth shaking,
It isn’t running to each other in the rain.
Not a dozen roses,
Or diamonds.
But I know now
That men aren’t made
Of scary things in the dark.
I know that you’re you,
And I’m yours.