BY Iona Herriot
Dear Mister, please fill in the blank here,
Writing your name would make you relevant,
But you mean next to nothing.
I’m going to focus on the act.
Boys like you
Should have warning labels on the front and back.
“Do not leave around women or girls”
“I ruin friendships”
“I can’t be trusted.”
Dear Mr. Bad Boy,
I can feel your heart accelerate.
Your palms are sweaty.
You’re waiting for me to say your name,
But what’s in a name?
Roses with thorns
Are like boys with horns
I’m warning potential players.
Player is the title I’ll give you.
But at least players stick to the rules
But all you do is make stuff up,
Sprinkle sugar on your bullsh*t so it goes down easier.
How nervous are you?
Can you taste your sins on the back of your throat like we had to?
I’m not afraid to call you by name,
I just like to watch you squirm
Now be careful with how you excuse yourself from conversations.
Remember silence speaks volumes,
And you’re only safe with the silence in your mind.
Dear Bad Boy, who does bad things to women,
After you commit each sin and sit alone,
I want you to know
The evil we do comes back,
And you are looking at a tidal wave,
This act of God will hit you with the force of your own obliviousness.
Not even Noah’s Ark will save you.
Are you worried, dear Bad Boy in the room?
When you sleep tonight, I want you to think of your mother
And how she would weep at the sins of her son.
To the Bad Boy in the room,
When you pray to your God,
Remember you were warned.
Photo Credit: Jesus Pancho Cuahutle