Big Dog Bite Me

Talking at me. Everyone is talking at me. G says let’s negotiate. He has dollar signs for eyeballs and greed is in his back pocket. He thinks he can whore me out for a price. K says I’m outta here and good riddance. Middle finger raised on a gentleman’s fist. Head held proud with a fukc you behind the smile. A is offering advice as a friend yet I cannot hear what she says. My husband is offering strategy as a partner. Take ’em for all they’re worth. Don’t sell yourself short. Where have I heard that before? The head honcho is calling me dude. Am I in his back pocket? What should I do? I can’t even ask what would Jesus do without offending someone…mostly myself. The only religion that can help me now is the one called confidence. The big dog can no longer bite because that dog is me. Bigger than what I planned on, bigger than who I am right now. Big man on campus. This is what you wanted. They say its a marriage. New wife…new life, right? How many things can I go about changing in my big corner office?
He says I’m tough on people. That I expect too much and I’m pushing buttons. Better than pushing you. Did I push you? Did we throw cups of hot, scalding coffee at each other to see who ducks faster? Did we?  If we did, did I win? I didn’t feel the sting of boiling brew so I must have. Big dog me. This isn’t how I wanted it to be. Everyone talking at me.