Post Romance: A Punky Bisexual Chronicle

my (ex) gf

I really hate her.

 

She ate my chicken strip in the car without asking

And she got crumbs all over the leather.

That was my only dinner.

 

She made me drop her off in the strangest place

Simply so she wouldn’t have to walk further,

And now I’m late for work.

 

She makes ridiculously dense jokes

That a nine year old boy would raise an eyebrow at

And expects me to laugh.

 

She opens the cereal box the wrong way

And rips the cardboard so it’s impossible to fix.

She giggles and hands it to me.

 

God damnit,

I really love her.