why is it that nice guys are never really all that nice?
it is a façade to get what they want
and what if what they want is you?
what angle may they choose
to construct the perfect view
persuade and misconstrue
mistaking niceties for currency
how much has it bought?
maybe just a ride home or
so she thought
nice guys have a way of disarming alarm bells
hiding ulterior motives behind unassuming smiles
suddenly turning the sweetness sickly vile
without even the decency of a heads up
no warning signs or indicators of lust
just a ploy and a plan and
some small grant of circumstance
to land pocket queens
slid up under shiny sleeves
let’s just make out
what he means to say really
let me force you down on me
present myself as a perfect specimen of masculinity
without even so much as a piss poor attempt at consent
the saddest reality of all
at the final curtain call
why me asks she
it feels almost as though I have the word whore stapled to my forehead
making me question the energy I give off
somehow maybe I am all at fault
like I was the one propositioning in a darkened parking lot
what exactly is the difference between concession and coercion?
what about every time she decides to go silent and sit idly by
closing tightly her eyes
through gritted teeth & muffled cries
when you said we should hang out
how could I know you meant it so literally
somehow she is always the one to blame
in this sick and twisted game
do not want that kind of fame
causing flames to eat away at her brain
all is fair in love and war
but what are we even fighting for?
just to get him to walk her to the door
but not push himself inside
is it not too much to ask for a date
without the type-cast blasé cat and mouse cosplay
nor picturesque male gaze
only so nice until the desired outcome falls through
show me what those lips can really do
not
tell me more about you
show me what those lips can really do
you seem like the kind to be a secret freak
maybe a secret from you
show me what those lips can really do
how is it that outright resistance is dismissed as often as not
as coy playful petulance indicative of
thinly veiled ethical vigilance
only a part all women play to avoid the scarlet branding
when really it is borderline flattery to mutter inappropriately
show me what those lips can really do
it’s the arrogance for me
blatant disregard of autonomy
it must be so nice to be king
to never question for one second
conviction or certainty
nevermind detect any hint of hesitancy
of course I must have forgot
consent is open for interpretation nowadays
yes means yes and no means maybe
either a prude or a bitch
a saint or a witch
a virgin or a whore
no one bothering to implore
or even dare try to explore
how we are hunted like prey targeted tagged and claimed
without any acceptable say in what we wish to give away
because every interaction of lackluster substance
half-baked compliments
insincere lending of ear
demonstrations of hesitant generosity
holding of tongue behind fabricated delicately decorated masks
is ticked up and counted
earmarked & bound with a promise
thrown expectantly
and when no return on investment is attained
suddenly basic common courtesy is reduced to a chore
extra work he begrudgingly went unpaid for
so maybe it is for good reason alas that
nice guys always finish last