please

please

I’m warning you — pleading, really.
Tell me, “I haven’t felt a connection like this with anyone in years,”
and know that I might just scream and walk out, naked and all,
to find myself another man that I can fuck without fear,
a man that won’t give me importance when it’s not due.
Slap my face — use me,
but, please,
don’t tell me you love me
in that way that’s not real, but honest,
that punctures me,
the remains of other men left to rise and remind me
all they ever gave me of themselves was the memory of a feeling
they once had
but never with me.