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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