You thought I was slipping you
on and off, like a worn jacket
but I had carved you on my soul
a long time ago, so you were –
are – always with me
If only you had respected my needs
not the ones you wished I had,
but my actual needs, I think
I could have fulfilled your desires
had they been anything more
than temporary, but you didn’t carve
stories and you had no
purposeful plan
Even Bonnie and Clyde
had a plan
Now I’m rinsed like dishwater
and you’re onto the next old bag
easier, to escape, when you
can attach yourself to star light,
star bright the gasses burn tonight, fast,
and you’re quick to eat it up, put it out
It’s naturally sick you play the songs
at the beginning that we’ll sing
at the end … your poor girlfriend
how many nights she’ll spend
waiting for you …
If I believed in God, I’d beg
may He have mercy on you both
The Halfwit Writer 