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.
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