An old draft 2

I wish I could write a poem for you, darling; I wish I could sing for you but I laugh at that thought because it’d be as fake as our love. You wanted a pastime and I was lonely. Perfect match eh? Probably not. Oh how I hated your giggles! Remember when you laughed out loud and asked me if I found it weird? I lied that day. You sounded like a horse.

You say I’m selfish; you say I’m rude; I’d rather be a bad guy than a marionette with strings in your hands. You’d like it, won’t you? You need puppets, baby not a lover. Do I sound misogynistic? Sad. I hate myself for laughing when you said all the men were dogs. Too bad, you dated one before.

Man! Every time you said you weren’t like other girls, I wanted to drive my bike straight into a truck. Enough with that! You’re just like everyone else. So am I. There’s nothing special in this world. Neither you nor me. You do everything others do; what makes you special? Do you eat with your feet?? Does your brain digest food? Maybe that’s what it does anyway. Enough with special shit.

You have got some serious talent. Please use it for good. Saying “you won’t understand” won’t make me understand, nimcompoop. Try expressing instead of expecting others to understand, we’re not divine winged and horned creatures who landed on their asses from heaven.

Don’t expect people to change when you can’t land on your feet yourself. Nobody’s there to break your fall every time you jump off of a cliff for trivial shit. Take the fall and own the scars, blaming won’t get you nowhere.

You’re out of luck,

I’m out of here.