He told me to write something else
as if I were a young girl
shakily handing over a poem
to a daunting professor for the first time.
He told me to try something else
as if I’d reached a little too close
to his egotistical buttons
with a finger poised to push.
But in reality, I remind him of someone
or something in the past
an experience a little too dark
to delve through again.
He should try something else
or someone a little lighter
because the last thing I’ll do
is strive to please this man.