no he doesn’t treat me better than you did

fuck you for leaving me with this prick

which god answered your prayer in a matter so quick

where was he when we were beguiling?

he’s everything yet nothing at all

you were everything

he treats me like a girl— a wife, i’ll even go that far

buys me clothes, talk about life, and drive around in his car

but you; i was a goddess, a revolution, a magical possession 

i can write driveways and pancakes in the shadow of him

it wont replace the dimensions i created upon your existence

we’re constellations dancing above a mortal planet that is me and him

this is a crazy thing that i’m doing

but you know i’ve been nothing but unapologetic— wish he knows me that well too

he doesn’t, so in the rare occasion he comes across this he’ll throw a tantrum 

he fills my room with salt water blinding me in the ear

still in the cracks of fears you shine through 

it’s like a long big game of clue

deciding pieces of myself and always coming up short of you

my picket fence of American dream is covered by rose thorns 

piercing skin with aches of lovelorn

he served me so much in my plate

yet i still come out the other end disconsolate 

it’s like we’re due for a pay

a cost of our otherworldly expenses on love

since we decided to be so above

don’t worry of harms coming your way

he doesn’t read my poems anyway