Keep talking
You may think that you’re cute
You may want to sock it to me now
But each word is one more shovel-full of dirt heaved
You’re doing a fabulous job at digging your own grave
I should probably thank you for doing the dirty work
This might just be the hardest job you’ve even had
You may have finally found a career
Maybe I should congratulate you,
But all I can think about is trying not to throw up
That mouth of yours that’s burying you alive -once touched mine
I once enjoyed what came out of that mouth
Those hands you’re blistering and splintering- use to caress me
Now I feel the dirt from them on every part of me you’ve touched
I fear there isn’t enough water to wash it off
For someone that was so sweet
You sure charmed yourself into a cute little coffin
Hopefully the thought of you won’t disgust me forever
Hopefully, soon your name won’t make me dry heave
And hopefully the contempt I feel towards you
Will only stay with me long enough to help me not date losers like you again
