Other Women

There's always going to be other women.

I don't think I'm ever going to be enough for any man.

Do I love too strongly? Do I care too much?

Should I wear less clothing? Should I let him call me a slut?

These other women that I find these men with.. they are so, so terribly plain.

They have no personality. Some of them hardly have a brain.

They only have what is between their legs.

But, I have so much more to offer than that.

I can love you. I can fight next to you and I will be your number one fan.

I want to try your favorite flavor of ice cream and I want to hear the way your favorite song escapes your lips.

I want to hold you when you have had the worst nightmare of your life.

I want to celebrate your victories and mourn your losses.

I want to turn the worn pages of my favorite book while you sip your god awful iced coffee.

I want to memorize every detail of your face and listen to your laugh on repeat.

I have so much to offer.

But you don't care.

There's always other women whispering seductive things in my man's ear.

The man that I am particularly writing about was never actually mine.

These were just wild fantasies that my mind made up, all because a man was polite to me and made me feel wanted for a few days.

The other woman, she's real.