Song of a Desperate Woman

They call me thirsty

Scribble keen on my windows

They say I seek hydrants

Fixate on men for my jones

In every room I chat

Lurk every place for a date

No location too sketchy

While I’m in search for a mate

But I inhale their laughter

Eat their jokes as my meals

As I sit in my longing

Awaiting the quench love will yield

I’m not desperate for no reason

I don’t sit parched in a flood

I’m not surrounded by lakes

I only have oceans of mud

They say be patient, he will come

Fix yourself for the one you long

They give me how-to’s and self-helps

Tell me every inch of me is wrong

I’m too bad, I’m too good

I’m too stupid, too knowing

I’m too big, I’m too small

Too much, no, too little is showing

And I swear I’ve changed all but my color

Some women even adjust that

But even everything isn’t enough

Traveled forever and I’m still where I’m at

Now my sails have no more wind

Too much no and not enough yes

I no longer can feel a current

It’s the fault of optimism I guess

For I wanted to ignore their mantra

To forget the truth I’ve known

They chant “Our pleasure is your privilege”

The omen of Adam’s bone

-Amber Johnson