thoughts at the gas pump

a long, winding poem about craving male validation and choosing self respect instead

this is a poem i quite literally wrote at a gas pump after choosing to ignore compulsive feelings i had for a former creative mentor, despite every part of my internalized need for male validation telling me that experience with him would make me whole as a woman.

the temptation i felt was destroying my mind, but i knew it couldn’t possibly be as destructive as actually going through with a delusional and self-harming attempt at a fake romance.

i began to reflect, in real-time as i wrote, about what it truly means to be “whole” as a woman, and my dream for a future filled with self-love and fruitful femininity helped me see what i truly desired and needed in that moment.

he’s the last person anyone would expect

to see me writing such things about

if only these words were of delusion

instead of probable cause most people doubt

it’s cold here as i wait for the fuel to finish

and for my own flames to burn out

tonight i offered you a ride home

and if you accepted

your hands would probably be on me by now

warming me up

before we kept driving out of town

and when my car brought us to your hotel i think

you & i would risk all we’ve ever known

you’re the adult, but you should see how i’ve grown

i swear i could keep a secret

that time would never show

like your hands on my neck

adjusting my collar

your hands on the small of my back

making me want & wonder

your hands that could be gripping my hands

my waist and my hair and my thighs

your hands that could lock my office door

and shut all the blinds

turn off our phones and turn off the lights

dropping my key and your ring in my desk drawer

i hated you when we met

now i could be your whore

the gas pump clicks

i really shouldnt think this way anymore

if i let you touch me, my mind will always be at war

maybe someday i’ll find my dream lover

but when your eyes lingered

as i unbuttoned my long white coat

i started to wonder: what if i don’t?

what if i am the love of my own life

80 years old and still alone

staring at the high ceilings in my luxury home

resting my old head on silk pillowcases

sighing as my old hands shake and hurt

while you have been busy for years

buried deep, deep in the dirt

i know there will be peace in being alone

i’ll sit on my velvet blue couch

and string pearls around my neck

thankful that i finally found some fucking self respect

reflecting back on all of my years

relishing in the blood, sweat and tears

but you’ll still be there, in the dusty corners of my mind

i’ll remember being 19, my fresh but dirty mind

i’ll be mad at myself, for keeping you in my mind

but part of me will still wonder, was i ever in your mind?

would a wild night have been deeply divine?

i’ll wonder in my mind

what if i left that gas pump in a hurry

turned right at the nearest light

a sultry song on jazz radio

speeding into the city as the sky turned to night

and let your old hands meet my young hands

touching me everywhere

and giving me lust i’d never again find

saving the memory for someday, for my old mind

for when i find success

when i am happy and aligned and well-fed

when i won’t care one bit

if someone visits me on my death bed

because the very best company will be in my own head

just me & my peace

loving every little piece of me

and, just once in awhile, visiting my memories

on nights where cold loneliness finds my velvet blue

my hands would turn into your hands

up my thighs and remembering you

i rip the receipt from the gas pump

$28.32

i push the thought out of my mind

this perversion is nothing new

you’re not the only one

there have been a thousand of you.

i can’t ruin myself at the risk

of being a tortured old woman, incomplete and aloof

you cannot stay this way in my mind

my hands must turn the page to something new

i affirm that i will stay strong

i affirm that i will be smart

i affirm that i will finally learn

how to protect my own heart

i can rewrite the future

and promise to make my own peace

no matter who or what got a piece of me

i am better than my temptations

so i bury my fantasies

allowing myself to believe in hope

and i get back in the driver’s seat