It’s by far the funniest thing you’ve said,
Don’t you think?
I hate to admit, but I have to agree,
Your advice may be true - don’t date a writer.

I hope you’ve learned your lesson, love.
We fight, we cry, we push, we shove,
Cause good writers know words left unspoken,
Are the true cause of all bonds left broken.

A good writer knows she needs to be loud,
For people like you who walk so proud,
Our words can hit so close to home,
So you burn them with your lighter of chrome.

Don’t think for a second I’m not so smart,
You underestimate the power of art,
And the meaning that all my words can carry,
Don’t think for a second my words were merry.

I’m a good writer, you see,
Your yelling and anger are no match for me,
And I know my thoughts are too hard to bare,
So it’s easier for you to laugh and glare.

But haven’t you given a second thought?
To the girl who stands so prideful and taut,
That maybe, just maybe, her words have meaning,
And she’s trying to convey them without any screaming.

No, that would be too hard for you,
Too immature to handle truth,
So you pick and choose what you want to hear,
Oh how ******* stupid of you, dear.

I don’t really think you get it.
Enough with this poetic *******,
I’ve said what I’ve said and I don’t regret it,
You can blame me all you want for your mistakes, I get it,
But don’t think for a second that I don’t understand.

That’s another great quality - of a good writer, anyways,
That they’re sympathetic in the way they explain,
Their feelings and hardships to others in pain,
Because they’ve been through it before, both the struggle, and the strain.

I hope my words hit you hard this time,
Harder than ever before.
It’s what you deserve after all I’ve been through,
Trying to end this war.


You could’ve made is easy, you know?
How hard would it have been,
To put your anger towards me aside,
And instead, look within.

Look at who you have become.
Are you proud?
I already know the answer to that one,
Just take a look around.

While you were so busy wrapped up in your mind,
You didn’t realize that you never made time,
To those who had something real to say,
Something that was anything other than ‘hey’.

And that mistake was made by you,
Not a choice you could misconstrue,
So don’t come up to me out of the blue,
Because now I can say I am someone new.

Isn’t it painful, to have dated a writer?
Our words burn passionately like fire,
Coming to light in situations so dire,
You’ve hit rock bottom, and I walk the wire.

It’s time I end now, so I leave you with this.
Before you give that girl a kiss,
Make sure her notebook and smile is brighter,
Or else you’ll end up dating a writer.