Toting Toxicity

Noticed myself getting jealous about this man.

Not even because I want him, but because he hasn’t responded to how great I am.

Had to check myself at the realization.

I’m not even the type to crave male validation.

But it got me. Just a little, enough for self-assessment.

My ego’s a bad habit, time to make a divestment.

I don’t even want him, but I want him to want me.

So I can play with his heart and capitalize on his insecurities.

I must be bored. Staying idle got me headed towards demon time.

Starting to look for a challenge that can stimulate my mind.

Looking for an exercise rooted in strategy.

And he is hovering in my space, about to be caught in my killing spree.

Or would he come willingly to the death match if I apply a little pressure?

Sprinkling a little breadcrumbs and some phony little gestures.

Looking to occupy my time so something toxic’s abrew.

Unconsciously poked the bear, and there’s nothing better to do than to make him a fool.

I’m a mess. I swear I try to just keep to myself.

Focusing on my own healing, sparing others’ mental health.

But these skills that I acquired are like knives in a drawer.

Left to get duller if I don’t use them anymore.

And I’m sure it’s for the better if I let these powers die.

Let them become ornamental like rose petals left to dry.

For now, I’ll meditate on the subject and stay in my own space.

Because I’m headed towards destruction if I don’t fix my headspace.