Replacement in bedroom (don't take it as my personal )

You are my soul mate or
My pen to write about you
You are not another tragic young thing
waiting to fix sad men.
You are not a bedroom replacement
for women who left them.
When they call your body beautiful
for saving them, tell them
thank you, and walk away.
Your body is not a septic tank for them
to dump heartbreak in, nor is it a proxy
for an ex lover’s absence.
You were made from lionesses roaring.
Your blood can melt stars.
And any man who looks at you like
you are a cure
is only looking to heal himself
from wounds that have nothing
to do with you.
Any man who looks at you like you
could fill in someone else’s shoes
is still only ever looking at
someone else’s shoes.
Tell them the soles of your feet are winged gladiators,
that you are so beautiful,
poems will go to war for you.
Tell him you strapped lightning around your ankles and danced so hard the deaf heard thunder
that you didn’t come this far to fall here
on his mattress
and aspire to be a second hand version of what he lost
tell him you are not a memorial park for another woman.
You are not a headstone for her ghosts to lie at.
And every time he looks at you like he wishes you were someone else,
remember this.
You are not a man’s salvation from loneliness,
you are a fortress protecting your beautiful heart,
armed to the teeth with dreams.
You are the kind of magic he mistakes for mediocrity
because he is searching for graveyards
in a cave of wonders.
And remember this.
If he is lonely, that is his problem.
He doesn’t deserve your kindness.
You do.

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