I miss you
Your twatness
Your wetness
Your fatness
Your firey red haired ness
Your always prepared ness
To take me on in a scrap.
Till you threatened to kill me
To death
With a knife
So no more trouble
No more strife
In fact no more life.
Your tendency to obsession
And mine to depression
Meant I had to dump you
No longer to hump you
Or cuddle you up on a dark cold night.
New Years Day seemed like a good time
To tell you you weren’t mine.
I surfaced to sanity,
You e-mailed tearful pics to me
As we one became two
But was that the end of you?
Oh the sense of relief.
Now we hardly speak
When we meet on the street.
Tho I’m more relaxed
As my joi de vivre
Is seeping back.
Half my thoughts of you are tender
If I selectively remember.
Guess I’ll just have to live without you
That’s all
If I want to live at all.
© Patrick Ellis
2 comments:
Oh wow, that's a bit drastic, ain't it?
yo n,
glad to hear you. things have been busy. for you too i hope.
in reply to u'r comment: there was no acceptable alternative, my compassionate chum.
peace and love
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