Day: Mar 8, 2021

You’re dripping in the spit of people who swore to warn you.

Guess the Armani didn’t work out, the shine didn’t guard you.

Once every three nights you rue the day you ditched my calls –

The envy demons by your bed must stand at least seven feet tall.

I’m doing far better than I should, far worse than you’ll ever know.

Half of my reflections are transparent, half – just for the show.

The monsters breathing on my neck keep getting much closer

Now that you’re gone and our peace treaties are finally over.

But I’m wearing your suits with the glamorous perfume now,

Leaping forward faster than you, waltzing in front of a crowd.

And one day the lonely feeling will dry out your shallow bones

Because one day it’ll be me not picking up the damn phone.