miss me, shift me, kiss me .

I'm so tired of being swept off my feet with baseball bats .
they often times break my ankles and lack the tenderness of brooms .
instead, I'm left kneeling in submission & out of things to give .

I'm so tired of falling in love and landing on my face .
I'd rather face the possibility that 'he' would catch me before i slam into the concrete .
it's not like i fall intentionally .
nope .
they pull the magic carpet from beneath my feet when things get a little dusty .
but what love is orderly ...always ? I don't need OCD love . things inevitably get messy .

I'm so tired of the line, "girls mature faster than boys" . maturity is only a pinch of intelligence & a cup of accountability . should i pour these ingredients in his morning coffee ?
i mean, his sippy cup ?

I'm so tired of lending my ears to vent to, my shoulder to cry on, and my hand to help up and if that isn't enough ... being expected to give my vagina too .
I'd give away my embraces like Halloween candy . I'd share my undying support like recess snacks . I'd lend my loyalty as freely as a borrowed pencil ... if it meant that i would simply get it in return .

my mother told me, "Stevi, don't get discouraged by being a good girl . Guys like the fast girls now ... but they'll marry girls like you ."
can you repeat that ?
marriage is the only time when i can expect honesty, love & respect ?
should i anticipate lying, selfishness, insincerity and disrespect in the meantime ?
I'm no ones damn floor mat . I'm no ones 'trial run' . they can keep the 'game' that insults my intelligence . they can keep the half-assed, lazy attempts at dating me . they can keep the 'Tug-O-Stevi', i want you when it's convenient. . .

they can keep their bullshit .


I'M NINETEEN. i dont need a husband; i need real .