At last
The fairytale of your docent love
Desists
And you stumble around
On the phone
Calling me profane things
Demanding your profane needs
While my jaw drops
In astonishment.
All the things you say I am…
A selfish, greedy bitch
Hoarding my splendid riches
And now you must turn back
To your heroin rich bitches
And I’ll return to
Where I was.
Quite content
Without your love.
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