I stood there and said "today is the day".
I am going to keep going, stand up straight and tall.
I am special no matter what any might say.
I picked up the phone and dialed that poor girl,
the one that looked lost in the city last evening.
As I spoke out to her, my emotions took flight
and I asked her to please try and believe me.
"I'm sorry I told you I left my wallet at home
when I stared at the check waiting for you to pay,
and for later as I hit you when you laughed at my body.
I'm sorry I also wished you'd get AIDS.
A moment of silence I was privy to hear
as I feared what it was she might have thought
"Honey," she grunted "it doesn't matter to me
after all, my love is what you had bought."
It was then I began to feel great relief
since while hitting her I had screamed to her "Whore!"
I suppose now she might have thought it a compliment
and that maybe she would want me to love her some more.
For an hour and a half I gave her my best
exhausting my book full of bathroom wall names.
When I hung up the phone I felt more like a man
than I do when mirrored naked in front of my shame.
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