The way your heart

holds up through the hardships

of life,
the way your laughter,
ricochets off the walls,
and spreads the pleasant
warmth,
the way your thoughts
envelop his mind,
making him lose his
over the thought
of your humor,
the chime of your voice,
the sweetness of your actions,
the selfless selfishness
of how you keep your problems
under lock and key to yourself,
so he won’t have to carry
the burden of your
weight on his soul.
And I know, believe me
I know this sounds cheesy
but the perfection within
your imperfections is what
drew him in.
How you have a tendency,
to stutter, how you love to write
but cannot spell right,
and your stubbornness
which cements you
to what you believe is favorable-

is not what he desires.

A blank, mindless,
body is what he sees.
Judgements based
on the slope of your waist,
the length of your legs,
not compelling due to
the size of your steps,
but to see if they match the aesthetically
pleasing ideal he has constructed
in his shallow mind.
Probably he somewhat considered,
how it could make you feel
worthless and inhumane
when he neglects
the selflessness of your selfishness,
the perfection within your imperfections,
and places significance
on the insignificant.
He refuses to swoon,
over the beauty of your mind,
would much rather chase
after the feel of your breasts,
and decide whether he likes
the length of your hair.
He’d gamble away,
the sound of your laughter,
and your acceptance of difference,
in exchange for
the perfect curve of a backside.
Somehow feels
as if whatever makes you
feel attractive in your own body
allows him to unceremoniously
display his attraction to your silhouette.
Irregarding the captivating complexity
of your logic,
but believes he holds power
which grants him access
to what is yours to share,
and yours to flaunt,
not on his arm or unveiled
on the screen of his cell phone,
not for his pleasure,
but for you,
and only you.