Him

I fell in love.
I loved a man who loves himself greater than I could ever aspire to.
I watched him chase his dreams while he left me
Complacent, unhappy
Vying for his love, attention,
appreciation for all of my loving energy
but he doesn’t need me.
He fell in love with himself.

He already loves his flaws,
he doesn’t need my admiration.
He’s already strong,
he doesn’t need me.
But still, I gave and gave
And I cried and cried
Constantly wondering why –
Why doesn’t this man love me?

I tried to be all he needed
But the truth is,
he never needed me particularly,
just the apex of pleasure that lies at the meeting of my thighs.
He needed gratification,
release.
I write all about him,
I wept, without him.
Crying out my unsatisfied reprise for more.
More from him, more of him,
I tried to push us to grow together
but he’s headed to his destination alone.

He push me into his body,
and I pushed him away,
because I could not stay for one more heartbreak.

Now, I lament for him.