One Poem

Flirting With Someone in Their 30s 

(2025)

 

Flirting with someone in their 30s

is not for the faint-hearted, 

they say! 

 

Don’t ask me what my favorite color is. 

I am tired. 

I have had three heartbreaks, 

two jobs I regret 

and a lower back pain that comes like a jealous ex, 

always showing up uninvited. 

 

The color is red  

for flags I ignored in my 20s. 

Next question please. 

 

You wanna flirt? 

Ask how my granny knees are doing. 

Ask if I’ve finally accepted that I cough 

every time I laugh too hard. 

Ask how I survive one night out 

and spend the next two days whispering like a monk 

because hangovers in your 30s are spiritual warfare. 

 

Send me memes 

not “wyd?” 

I am probably icing something. 

My idea of fun? 

A nap. 

In silence. 

With no one needing anything. 

 

I wrote a Google document about myself, which I edit after every failed relationship. 

I add everything I hated and liked after I dust myself up.

Hi, I’ve got childhood trauma, student loans, 

a strong meme game, and a fear of premature bonding.

Let me know if you want the Google Drive link. 

 

Flirting in your 30s means: 

I don’t fall easily, 

but if I like you, 

I’ll send voice notes, 

share playlists, 

and complain about adulthood while silently hoping 

you’ll stick around long enough 

to meet my weird, tired, still-slightly-romantic soul. 

 

Because deep down, 

I’m just trying to love again 

but smarter this time. 

With better snacks 

and orthopedic pillows.