Don’t tell me you have good intentions when your idea of communication is through a DM and Facebook mentions. You say you changed, but all you have to offer me is sweaty balls and a dirty measuring stick that has dipped its way in a plethora of women. Remember, when they tell you they miss you, but they can only recollect the way your [quote} thick lips move around my audacious specimen [unquote]. Your good intentions were your way of saying your hard on was going to be a solid rock for my emotional stability.

You are capable of love but you decide to choose girls that have been exploited by past traumas by promising them consensual empty sexual intimacy while playing "Migos" in the background. Your idea of a real man is a man who has no emotional capability but who can plant his seed in any barrel that will have him. You dump your load of desperation and acquisitiveness in our soil and when we try to bloom we lack the roots to blossom vibrant petals, because you have stolen our water.

Your roots infiltrate my ability to see straight as you blind me with the rose color glasses you gave me on my birthday. Don’t tell me you have good intentions, when your definition of good, is you holding open doors so you can later close the door to your bedroom. The gray areas in your good intentions speaks volumes in Cameron Indoor Stadium. I would love to say “hell no” I would love to have enough self- assurance that no really means no and not no means some other time. I would love to be vocal, but if I’m not submissive somehow, I’m not capable of marriage and if I’m not capable of that I lost all hope as a woman. We hang on to your every word no matter if words are lies, damaging, and destructing because...

You are the leader of our tribes, families, countries, parties, and unions. Your rank has been stamped by the approval of the civilization of man. Unfortunately, I’m still fighting for that approval. I am merely a wo-man, a part of you that you hate, you can’t stand, but you love to stroke and penetrate. You already took a piece of me, but greed always has you coming back like dirty politicians accepting money under the glass tables. Don’t tell me you have good intentions if you are so blinded that you can’t comprehend your mother, your sister, and your aunt and I share the same pain of billions of women.

I am strong and I am weak, because when you speak the whole world stands and listen. When you speak people actually believe in you. When I speak, I’m the poster child of the boy who cried wolf. Don’t tell me you have good intentions when you obsessively project my body into your beloved pornographic images. You like me to turn this way and that way- to get the perfect angle to see my virtue. As I sprawled in front of you, you decide when to enter, I have no say so you judge by the moisture in my fountain.

You asked for a photo and I give them to you hesitantly, you tell me to wait till I’m comfortable wait till I’m relaxed so you wont feel guilty of twisting and bending my body to fit your explicit desire. Don’t tell me you have good intentions, when you laugh at my vulnerability and my awkwardness when I am a deer stuck in a head-on collision shaking from contact. Don’t tell me you have good intentions, when you slander every woman who has control of their sexual freedom in other words behaves like you. For the record, if you were a “good guy” you would respect my assessment that you failed the test of partnership and commitment and for that you fail because I do not see you as a man who measures up to the men that protect their mighty queen.

Your persistence is convincing but even Satan waited until an opportune time. Don’t tell me you have good intentions when you have no ounce of integrity, when you use and abuse the people who love you. Don’t tell me you have good intentions when your touch is hostile and rough, searching for the ruby between my legs not the diamond in my heart.

Don’t tell me you have good intentions when the room is lit with white lies, musk and regret. Don’t tell me you have good intentions when the end result of communicating with you is sex. Don’t tell me you have good intentions when you skate past honor and integrity to get what you want. Don’t tell you have good intentions because your "good" intentions are bullshit.