I know a girl
She likens herself to be just like
Ron Weasley's mother
I suspect we may never be friends again now
Considering she now sits on my ex's ****.

Little miss cupcake
Miss Piggy
I peaked at her Facebook out of curiosity
And I remember the exact moment in which
Several months before
Where I thought, "Oh my. Oh my. You aren't my kind of woman."
You had blamed frightening male behavior
On false news reports, perhaps CNN
I remember sitting in a theatre
My phone buzzing a mile a minute
And with little red x's I quietly watched each of these ladies go
I know its not me
Its you
And while I wish no ill will
As you would all turn to look at me for support
When the clan of hoodlums wounded your bones
Perhaps now, now that it directly affects your life
Little missy piggy, miss jenny
Perhaps now you might think.

But its baffling to me
That you can take photos on your phone
Attempt to show your cute social encounters
With the profile of the man that has so
Lavishly wounded not one
But now two, probably 3
(If we include the one that Instagrams her heart break)
Women that have been dangled from a roof
Convicted and imprisoned with falsehood promises of sunshine
Thrown into a waste bin of trickery and fake love
Slept in the trenches of mildew hot sauce
Winnie The Poo and Tiger too
And thought and taught by him
And the others
To be the wretched bad guy in the end

That, that Little Miss
Define yourself through your current surroundings
Your lingerie that you now proudly wear
I don't hate you
I thought you were alright
With your obsession for your cat
The way you decorated your house reminded me of my own style
But if you click and swim in hyperspace
You will see mists of vape smoke
A girl who ran away from me at a party
Because I somehow managed to remind her
Of soggy pasta. Salty shoes. A rusty clamoring voice.
Boyhood mixed with ***** soap
All surrounded by the label
Love.

But just so ya know
He and I
Before I even met you

Oh yeah, we ****** in your bed one time.