baby boy
i filtered myself
i’m not sure who i’m protecting
but i went a little too easy on you
rooftop parties
made to impress.
you know,
you didn’t have to try so hard.
i’m not on the table for taking.
truth is
you pissed me off
the way you looked me up and down
i never felt so fucking objectified, humiliated.
the way i had to peel your arms off my waist.
did your lips just graze against my neck?
it would be kinda hot if it was wanted.
it’s not.
i push you off.
i show no signs of reciprocation.
you don’t get to blame it on the alcohol.
two years,
barely no talk,
is a long time
for you to think it’s ok
to touch me like that.
don’t you think?
guards up babe,
defences up.
you pull closer,
like i’m a conquest.
i see the lust in your eyes.
babe, i’m not being shy
i don’t want you on me.
i am livid,
so belittled.
i look on to our “friends”,
and they don’t even think anything of it, of you.
the anger grows.
i go back 1 year,
you were the first page of my book.
the “i think you almost could have been my person”, but not quite..
but even that, to me, meant something. you meant something.
i go back, 2 years.
you escorted me into my new life.
you were the last face i saw before entering the bardos.
i almost missed security cut offs because you were late,
but i wouldn’t have cared if i did,
i wanted to see you one last time.
oh but it still stings, the way you talked about my dead brother- “you’re still sad about that??” fuck you.
yet india collides, and i forget the red flags.
i show mere didi, tumhaaree tasveer.
“no. not him. he is a playboy. he’s not your person.”
i trust her judgement, but still booked the flight to kerela anyways.
serendipity had other plans. detouring me from a big mistake.
mother india has a way of delivering everything you need.
i take another look at all the photos.
how did i not notice you are always posting surrounded by women.
you always stand a bit taller next to a cute blonde, don’t you?
hey, i’m not to judge, tall dark handsome is my vice.
i look past it, but really, did i just fit your type?
here, now, when i see them walk by with a camera, i duck out,
i don’t want to be another blonde bimbo on your arm.
i go back, 3 years.
i was so excited to spend time with you.
“i’m coming down to the coast, i’d like to see you.”
what a fucking let down.
sure, cute reunions, sundown, jeracho beach.
fools- i hop on the back of your motorbike, no helmet,
summer dress and wedge heels on gravel roads.
i trusted you to keep me safe, and you did.
and after that,
i think i projected everything i thought you were.
i think i built you up to be something you’re not.
cold, except when you’re in the mood,
babe turn the telly off, it’s not hot.
don’t take a girl out to the restaurant and insist on paying
if you are going to moan about the cost later.
i would have been happy making 50 cent maggi at home.
but i think you were a bit too self absorbed to see what’s in front of you-
i’m not like the others.
i go back, 4 years, 5 years.
waterfalls, sunsets, adventures, photography-
oh, i looked at you in awe,
we speak
a matching love language.
i learn how to ride a motorcycle,
not because of you,
but inspired by you.
did i make a mistake moving back to the prairies?
are you the reason i need to come back to the coast?
but uk is calling, i don’t know, so i wait it out. i need to go.
“i’ll be back in a year. we can see what happens then.”
i never did, did i?
i come back.
to here and now.
i came here to spend time with my friends.
but intuition knows,
you are sussing me up
on how long it’ll take
before we are going back to your bed,
so you think.
i am mortified.
you go after my ex with daggers,
without knowing his character.
he’s a good man,
and he did good,
the right thing.
have you ever loved anything more than yourself?
you let them go, so they can be happy?
nah, didn’t think so babe,
it always was about you, wasn’t it?
i am ready for a fight.
you didn’t even ask if i have feelings for you.
you didn’t even ask if i met another.
you just assume
because of the past
i’m going home with you.
fuck you.
i’d almost say
“you’re so vain”
but babe
you’re just so insecure,
sad lonely boy,
and i hope
you find your way
because underneath it,
lays a lovely boy who doesn’t see his worth, as he is.
and you are so much better than the way you have been behaving.
and i hope you sort it out.
and let yourself be loved, one day,
but it’s not going to be with me.
i’m ready for a fight.
instead i take flight.
no explanations.
i owe you, i owe them
nothing.
sorry babe,
yeah it must have been so rude
leaving you up there like that
with our friends and strangers.
“sorry, my phone is ringing, i have to take this call.”
i leave through the side door unnoticed.
there wasn’t anything left to say.
i’m a hard one to replace, though
you won’t miss a minute trying.
and babe,
truly,
you are much too old
to be chatting up 19 yr olds like that.
yea i saw that earlier,
whatever, numbers are overrated.
they seemed impressed by shiny things.
not me.
i’m out.
and probs shouldn’t post this,
but fuck it.
i’m out.
daveyhproductions 
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