Don’t Call Me Queen

Don’t call me Queen.
You don’t mean it.
You sing my praises,
yet refuse to make me yours.

You acknowledge my worth,
just to disregard it.
You still want me to linger, because
Stef + someone else = a salty heart.

It’s not me that you miss,
it’s someone’s presence.
Having a woman’s body
near yours makes it alright,
even if it isn’t mine.

You pine for me, but don’t
play off of your intentions,
because your heart feels one way,
but your mind dictates another.

Don’t add me into the mix of your
insecurities, commitment issues
and problems with love.
Don’t call me Queen if you’ll never
treat me like one.

Poet: Stefanie Parrott


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