I don't want you,
If it means demeaning myself for your sake,
If my patience will always be at stake,
If I' ll have to get a plastic heart,
Because this fleshy one cannot withstand,
The blows and howls of words,
I don't want you.
I don't want you,
If I will be forced to refill gas cylinders every week,
Because you do not know charcoal,
Let alone firewood.
You are a slay queen,
Your nails exquisitely manicured,
You feed on gold and diamonds,
On the numerous likes on all your posts,
You pay bills via lustful comments,
Because this ash,
The ash that I was raised on,
Chokes you.
No. I don't want you.
I don't want you,
If we will never walk side by side,
Because your clothes mama,
Leave nothing for the imagination.
So I will walk ahead of you,
And let the carnivorous feed on you,
Let you pattern their backs with claws,
Let you quench their thirst.
I cannot hold this.
I don't want you,
If it's only your cunt that you have to offer.
I don't want you,
If it means I dorn the apron everytime I have visitors,
Because you my love,
Are a beauty for the palace,
You know not of the kitchen,
Or the old rug that cleans the floor.
I don't want you,
If I will have to be your camera man for the rest of my life,
For your forte is built on pictures.
I will not manage to keep up with your small talk,
Of fellow slays,
With a similar queen virus,
Yet you know nothing of the war in Syria,
Or the impending secession,
Not even the North Korea threats to Guam.
No. I don't want you.
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