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The Confession of A(n) Asshole/Douche bag/Dick/ etc...

In a certain sense, you’re right

I led you on

I pulled the strings that guided your actions

Upon movie dates and way too many dinners

I could feel your feelings flail at me every time I drove you home

You were happy you found me…

Then the conversations slowly stopped

I stopped seeing you

I stopped answering calls

I stopped responding to texts

I stopped existing in your life

I stopped becoming a name in your daily sentences

You were sold on the idea that once I had *** with you multiple times

That my quest was over. My Journey was complete

Now I can fall down this empty pit

And be open to all the slurs and hatred you flail at me like used-to-be feelings

This is how you feel

 

This is how I am..

I stopped the war in our relationship

So I could focus on the Genocide that was constantly raging in my brain every time I was with you felt your heart beat and noticed it wasn’t in rhythm with mine

Like hers used to be…

 

Once upon an October I lost love

Regained it

Then was murdered by it in the summer

Although my name wasn’t in the obituaries

If there was a news paper for body parts

That’s where you’d find my heart

 

When she left I took her face

Like a serial killer

I ripped it off and tried to mask it over

All the girls that wanted to show me love on the weekends

 

They couldn’t fit her dress

 

They couldn’t fit her shoes

 

They couldn’t fit her smile

 

They couldn’t fit her body

You beautiful girls mean nothing to me

 

In the end

Yeah, I left you

Because I’m not a kid

I can’t keep playing pretend

 

You cried, yelled and slapped me

Yeah, I wanted to hit you back

For not understanding

 

So,

This goes to all of you

When you see me out about swept up in the nightlife that this town brings

Focus on the different girls that are at my side

And crop them out

Take a copy from my past and paste it on my present

 

Call me a man *****

Sometimes I can’t take it

I try and find lost love in pointless ***

Call me a ****

That’s what you think I am

I haven't told anyone how haunted my brain is because of her

Call me an *******

Because I left when you needed me the most

Which I guess is worse than being connected to a lie detector

And asked the question, “Do you love her?”

Do you want proof on paper

Made from scratches about how much I don’t love you

Call me insane

Because I can’t let go of the past and everything

In my brain is pulsing because I still picture her in dreams

 

Or you can call me a child

Because I still like to play pretend

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
joey-zimmerman
American
Published
Dec 28, 2010
Lines·Words
66·490
Permission

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