My Heart Goes Pop.

Don’t tear my heart,

my achey break heart,

for if you do

expensive and extensive

life saving surgery

will have to happen

and it is highly likely

and completely possible

that I could die.

A million love songs later

and here I am, trying to tell you

that I have written and sang

the word “love”

Twenty two million, three hundred

and fourty eight times.

It has left me with a hoarse voice

and rheumatism in my right hand,

my writing hand.

All at the tender age of twenty-three.

I’m loving angels instead

‘cuz through it all

they remain unseen and unheard.

They do not complain

if I pick my nose and wipe it

on the carpet.

Nor do they shout at me

to do boring chores

when I could be playing X box instead

When you’re in love with a beautiful woman

you watch your eyes

as you develop a nervous twitch

in the greying bags beneath them.

This beautiful woman has cheated on you

because you are not good enough,

never will be good enough,

and don’t know how to find her clitoris

with a magnifying glass.

This crazy little party girl,

how you love her.

Particularly when she isn’t

chugging her guts up,

dancing like a spastic

and foaming at the mouth

from all those E’s.

I would do anything for love,

but I won’t do that,

you dirty bastard.

If I could turn back time

I would never have gotten with you

in the first place.

I get so emotional baby

every time I think of you.

This is because you are

selfish,

devious,

conceited,

conniving,

denying,

crocodile-crying,

and above all…

never trying.

Isn’t it shocking what love can do?

I’m leaving on a jet plane.

Goodbye forever,

I won’t be back again.

P.S Your morning breath

is like a cat’s bum hole

on a hot and humid day.

Don’t save your kisses for me

‘cuz love aint here any more.