“…i never loved you

..i never can, i never meant it— i only texted it—it was pretend”.

She sighed.

This was not her cup of green tea, this was not her dark raw chocolate, this was not her cayenne pleasure
this was rather awkward.
She was a winner, and it was clear she was not winning anything.
this was pure humiliation
this was not pride, this was a sad and dimpled pre-dickle.
She wiped her tears, she wiped them quickly, tilted chin up, and started tap-dancing.
She tapped a new rhyme
it made her famous
—he’s still a small boy,
her words are still contagious.

Let this be a lesson to all you growing moys
Boys text. Men call.
That’s all.
Grow up, pick up the phone,
tell her you love her
don’t wait
Don’t be a pretender
don’t be a lead-er-on-er
Don’t be a name-caller
Girls want grown men
Girls want brave men
Girls want bold and daring men
We do not like little toy-boy-wound-up-pretend men
SO be a strong man
be it good
and perhaps i’ll be the next real girl
to fall in love with
you.