my severed soul

there’s this girl of mine,
and boy, she warms my heart

she makes me feel tingly
and vibrant

like a child when
I’m in her arms

and a giant when
she’s in mine

sometimes I could squeeze
her cheeks

and kiss her face
with all my might

bite her ears,
tussle her hair

hug her so tightly,
twirl her around

then sometimes she makes
me feel worried

and anxious

because I know deep down,
she’s a good woman

and good women scare me,
nourishment scares me

I am afraid of love

love from a good woman,
at least

because good women
require a toll

a good woman needs
a soul

a full one

and I’ve severed mine
many times

and relinquished slivers
to bad women

with rotten hearts

who asked for nothing
and cared for nothing

now whatever I have left,
I need to keep

to remain grounded,
centered

to preserve whatever
is left underneath

however little that is

still I put good women
on the back burner

to simmer slow
with time

then chase after those
bad women

that ask for nothing,
that care for nothing

the cheating women,
the lying women

career women, married women,
latin women

black women
and single mothers

nurses, dental students,
strippers and lawyers

redheads, trampies,
the gas station women

with hoochie shorts
and broken nails

because they have everything
and nothing at all

and the encounters
never fail

their appetites replenish
quickly

their desire old
and weak

they cater to the lost
and shepherd the empty

they ask for nothing,
care for nothing

no toll, no soul,
no cost

I chase bad women
because

I am afraid of love

from a good woman,
at least

not because I don’t
deserve it

but because
they don’t deserve me

good women require
a toll

a good woman deserves
a soul

a full one

and I’ve severed mine
many times

and shared it with
bad women

willingly, as a token,
not a tax

not because they
deserved it

but because they
never asked.