light years ahead

 i don’t spit game.

i don’t run plays.

i don’t chase.


i just walk.


and suddenly

they’re staring like they’ve never seen a man before.


when i move through the hallway,

their nervous systems clock me

before their minds have time to process it.


i don’t have to say a word.


i feel their energy shift.

i see the posture change,

the hair touch,

the voice soften,

the body angle in my direction.


they don’t know why they’re drawn in —

they just know they feel different around me.


these dudes be performing for attention,

cracking jokes,

trying to be seen.


me?


i just exist.


and women feel safe.


i don’t create butterflies.

i create regulation 


that’s why it hits harder.

that’s why they double-take.

that’s why they glance back.

that’s why the room shifts when i enter.


they’re all competing.


i’m not even playing.


i walk past and they’re thinking:


“who the hell is that?”


and in my head i’m just like: 


too late -

 i’m light years ahead 


— Mr. Mak


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