Love And So Called Friends

“Darling, I’m not a child, so enough of your play park emotions

quit making me sit on the swing of your moods

taking me down on your emotional slide

seesawing me with your roundabout excuses

that if I break this up you will break down”.

Such I say in the mirror every day

as if I am a punk rocking middle class suburban teenager: swearing to myself

that I will be a man manipulated no more

by this woman who drops tears like a postman does letters

every morning

I wonder what’s coming through the mail box of her

eyes, what will she be crying about today? I don’t love her enough?

or simply that I took too much of the duvet and left her cold all night?

Both seem to cause equal distraught to her,

permitting eyes wetter than Niagara Falls.

Not sure where to turn, little direction remaining

but my friends are right, I should have left.

I’m being used, she’s co-dependent.

I tell myself I’ll tell her it’s over

and then I can be free to go out when I want,

watch football at the weekend

and not come home to her emotional river

having burst its banks and the house being flooded.

I swear she just does it as an excuse to replace the furniture

and repaint the walls;

she’s a woman after all,

can’t be trusted

like all my single friends say

who’s girlfriends left them because they

were cheated on by them

but that’s why you can’t trust a woman they say:

she says she’ll love you forever if you tell her she cooks well and

and as soon as she finds 

you have cheated on her, she leaves.

So they tell me not to be touched by her tears,

tell me I’ve been fooled all these years,

tell me I could be having more fun and more beers

and I must have no brain between my ears

if I don’t tell her it’s over.

So I go home and fire a bullet through the heart of our bond

And it dies a death instant- she leaves for a friend’s house that night

and I follow her shadows to the end of the street, then turn

the opposite direction for a drink with the boys

and after three weeks of nothing but man chat

about booze, bikes and boobs untouched,

I realise a woman’s tears are better company

than a half evolved monkey’s smile.

You can have love or you can have friends

You can have love or you can have friends

You can have love

or you can have

friends…

Dasein Petals © Copyright 2013

Poem 37 of 99 to raise money for operations for deformed, poverty stricken childrenSponsor me.

@DaseinPetals #99poems

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