genies and geniuses

My mailbox torments me
Calling on my attention
Open me up, look within
Every time I wish to go home

Repeat his jokes over and over
In my head, till I no longer laugh
Then do the same with his lies
What a hoot it can be

How do men not tire
Scrounging to manifest
the things they want,
genies and geniuses

And he has methods to his madness
It is not in vain, he has learned
It works every time, like a charm
He has me holding his hand

I fixate on a tree faraway
Wondering how I got there
Can it be who I’ve become
Can it be that I have no one else I want to be

I walk past the florists
I don’t need a man to give me flowers
Each time they are but apologies
I can give them to myself

Then it is naught but love

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