A Distorted Rendition Of Me

‘I miss you,’ you say, but we’re both aware,

You miss the feeling that in there somewhere–

Is a man you’d be proud to stand beside,

Cool, aloof, leather-clad, with a healthy dose of pride.

And for a while there, I thought, maybe I could pretend,

To smirk, smoke, turn away, condescend.

But you see, I was never the man you wanted me to be,

The guy you miss, a distorted rendition of me.

Frowning at jokes and sneering at smiles,

I’ve gone vegan, leather’s so last season, and assholery’s out of style.

I laugh too loud for your tastes now, my love,

Buy me a black coffee, and maybe, we’ll go back to square one.