why do they have to make it all so personal?

its over she said

can’t be doing with you any longer

as I scanned the room

thinking what I’d need to move out

boxes cars friends

ok I said I accept

you accept? she screamed

after what I’ve put up with?

your friends coming round

you & them getting drunk

watching the boxing motorcycle races

all the time

& you?

you don’t eat me enough never have

you smell fart too much

wont eat properly & don’t bathe

ok I said I accept

& she went on some more

I wasn’t sure if there was replication

in the mean nasty flow

but it sure felt like it

& then I remembered this was my place

I’d gotten over that fickle flaw

of finding women who hated me

& giving them a house

wait I said holding up a peace hand

this is my place, you don’t like it

there is the door…

& she started in again

how I was insecure a phony

couldn’t fuck right left rings on the tub

so I settled back let the wind blow

told me I couldn’t write all I did was whine

why do they have to make it all so personal?

if they don’t like me enough

to help me be a better being

but a thing to shout at

there…just there…that’s a door


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