The Simp Accusation
He said it loud by the soda machine,
like shame was a sport and he held the rings
He said it sharp with a sideways grin,
like hearts are jokes and love has strings
I’d just texted back, I’d just shown up,
I’d just kept faith with ordinary things
He called it “simp” like a court stamp,
like kindness is the crime it brings
We work all week under sun-bleached signs,
then drink at dusk to feel less caged
We watch the coast sell flawless faces,
watch men act hard to look un-aged
We turn soft care into a punchline,
then wonder why our homes feel razed
He laughed at me for holding steady,
like staying decent means mislaid
His buddies nodded like bobble heads,
rehearsed contempt like it was cool
Their voices rattled in the breakroom air,
a proud parade of borrowed rules
They worshiped distance, praised neglect,
called tenderness a sucker’s tool
Yet each one flinched at real silence,
each one feared being known as fool
Call me a simp, call me a joke,
I’ll take the word, I’ll take the smoke
You mock the hand that holds a hand,
then cry when every bridge is broke
You learn to sneer, you learn to score,
you learn to lock your hungry throat
I’d rather risk my pride in daylight than rot inside your macho cloak
We drove the freeway past dead malls,
past palms that clapped with dusty hands
He kept his mouth on “weak” and “soft,
” like mercy never understands
I watched the billboards promise power,
watched boys become their own demands
A man gets taught to starve in public,
then asked to lead when life expands
He told a story bout a woman,
called her “using,” called her “cheap”
He swore he never needed anyone, swore he never lost sleep
Yet every night his phone kept glowing,
and his stare went wide and deep
He wanted love like everyone wants air,
he just wanted it on the sneak
I thought of fathers who never hugged,
proud statues in a kitchen chair
I thought of friends who vanished fast,
then asked for loyalty out of thin air
I thought of how the tongue turns vicious
when the heart won’t do repair
Mocking affection is easy work,
it keeps your hands clean, keeps you bare
At the gas station, late and quiet,
he saw me buy her water, chips
He said “look at you,” like service kills,
like decency must bite its lips
I said nothing, kept my face calm,
let my silence draw its line and sit
He wanted me to beg forgiveness
for a care that doesn’t fit his script
I’ve seen the ones who brag the loudest fold
when sickness hits the house
I’ve seen the “alphas” lose their nerve
when grief comes stalking like a louse
I’ve seen the hard men call their mothers with a whisper in their mouth
Then show up next day, loud again,
selling steel they can’t arouse
If love is leverage, it turns rotten,
if love is theater, it dies fast
If love is only what you take, it leaves you hungry in the blast
I give what I can give on purpose,
no halo, no bargain, no contrast
He can keep his cheap applause,
I keep a pulse that’s built to last
One day he’ll sit in some dim parking lot,
hands on the wheel, eyes washed out
He’ll hear his own voice in his head,
and it won’t sound brave, it’ll sound like doubt
He’ll want a person close and honest,
not a crowd that cheers his drought
And I won’t gloat, I won’t preach,
I’ll just remember what the word was about
A label thrown to stop a man from touching what might keep him sane
A joke that trains a whole damn culture to confuse compassion with a stain
If loving her makes me “less,” fine,
I’ll be less of your small reign
I’ll be more of what she can trust,
and more of what I can explain