By Saturday I was over you.
Not that I was ever under you,
But I was under the impression
that we could create some type of compatibility
from our current and past situations.
That the baggage we carried
could be condensed to an overhead carry-on
because what happened, happened
yet we both saw the need to carry on.
But Saturday told me I was wrong.
It told me to stick with my own luggage.
You were in the mirror adjusting your tie.
Your face was fixed
in a conceited smile
because in that moment
you knew you owned the space we occupied
as four pairs of eyes
watched you speak of your pride and joy
as each word dripped from your lips
You left with your ego
and I asked one of those pairs of eyes
what that was all about.
I was told that people like you
can catch wind somehow
that a young lady might be interested in them.
And that little boost of ego
might be all your kind needs
to proceed to the next.
Was that all you needed?
To use me to boost your ego?
All that did was turn me off
from any switch I may have turned on for you.
Egotism and pride is so unattractive.
And you wore that crap like a suit of armor.
It made you look ridiculous.
It was enough for me to walk away.
I don’t wait for people to change
unless I already love you.
And although it is the name of the game,
you do not live up to it.
So I hope that night
you made love to your pride.
I hope you held your ego tight.
I hope overconfidence kept you warm.
And I hope they satisfy all of your
desires for the rest of your life.