Single

I choose to be single. 
Because I've met too many boys who wanted to keep me close, 
keep me with them, 
safely hidden away, 
under their wings. 
I've met too many boys who liked my intellect like it was a trophy, 
they liked to show it off at parties, 
they liked the sound of my voice in public, 
but not when we were alone: 
"baby, 
baby just please let it go and come sit with me." 
I've met too many boys that loved my body, 
the length of my legs and the bones in my hips, 
but they didn't like the fact that I wasn't carefree or reckless with abundance. 
I've met too many boys who loved my jokes, 
but when I say loved I mean they laughed to appease, 
and when I say jokes I mean things I said and meant them, 
like this is unfair, 
or this hurts me, 
or I'm uncomfortable. 
I've met too many boys who loved looking at me, 
who loved my surface, 
but feared my depth. 
I've met too many boys I didn't like, 
but thought I loved; 
too many of them made me feel guilty for wanting to be free, 
away from them, 
away from the hands that pulled me back, 
but never helped me up. 
I've met too many boys who stole too many of my days, 
too many hours I spent apologizing for who I am, 
for not fitting a vision they had, 
a vision I played no part in helping them create.

I choose to be single. 
And it feels good, 
being happy in my own skin, 
it feels good not having anyone trying to claw their way in. 
You conquer from inside, 
but they never knew that. 
I'm single and I've never been less lonely. 
It took me some time, 
but I finally learned to enjoy my own company.

— m.f. // Single