STD: Sickeningly Toxic Drama

I allowed Tommy a little day-off from writing since he’s been so good all this time in relating to us all his memoirs, not without  a little coercion with an eye-popping device, yes, but still. So now, as a tribute to all the guys who f—ed me for a night and took off faster than Bella could say ‘Edward, rape me!’, to you I give this ode to a night I will always wish not to remember…

So you think you’re just too clever 

to give out

an eensy, weensy, measly salutation?

F— you.

And I’m not even taking that back

just because I want you.

No, No.

You are a sadist.

Or merely a prototype of the male sex.

You were just not developed enough.

If you are then

you should have had the decency to answer 

the calls of my kind.

Yes, even the psycho ones.

You are just so full of yourself

that once something seems frightening

you scurry off to another dream world.

Not even heeding what may have happened

to the one that’s left behind.

Deserter!

Or should I merely say a heroic hypocrite?

My apologies to the other sex for revealing

the weaker chunk of your kind.

But even this is not  enough to point out

how invariably loathsome

this bit of your whole party is.

Putrid.

Odious.

Excreta.

Lady Gaga-ish.

Boom!

This is NOT me. I assure you, if I can find my own mug shot, I’ll replace this picture. Yes, asap.

*For her story, well click here.*

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4 thoughts on “STD: Sickeningly Toxic Drama

  1. Maybe they left to get you flowers then got lost. You never know. Flower shops can be overwhelming.

    I could never imagine doing something like that to someone. I’m not very sneaky and feel guilt too easily.

    Like

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