It’s 2am. Let’s strive to find a bit of poetry in this “Message to my Ex,” one that I coined this evening in the notes on my phone. I’ll never send it. I’d much rather show it to you.
So, the following is a copy-and-paste-poem with selections from my unsent message. Perhaps someone out there can relate.
Your quiet the past several days has me thinking…
I asked you to give me some evidence you care
And in a very distant way I guess you do.
But your jokes indicate you only want sex.
I won’t judge you for that.
But I hope you know it hurts me
To know that and say that.
It really really hurts.
“Good enough to have sex with
Not good enough for more.”
I’ve been sitting around
Actually caring about you.
Meanwhile you’re looking for some girl
With high morality and standards
having uninhibited sex and wanting
No commitment. That girl does not exist.
I don’t want out-of-the-blue texts
Anymore. You might be better off
Talking to someone who cares less than I do.
Someone who “has their eyes on their own paper.”