
And I think you regret everything after all, don’t you, darling?
Who am I to guess your regrets after you came at me, snarling…
But the feeling was deeper than shame I exuded at the moment.
The warmth was taken aback the second true words were spoken.
I often dream about you having nightmares where I am the lead,
We’re talking loud, you’re being mean, yet – you can’t compete.
All your arguments crash against the surface of your shallow grave.
Who would’ve guessed? The most prideful of primates will go
Still lacking the skill to behave.
Don’t blame me – I didn’t have the time to dig you that ditch.
How many times in the past two years you called me a bitch?
Who can count? Certainly, not you, denial is the key to winning.
So today let’s cheers to the odds of you ever touching me again
Critically thinning.
-JW







