Other than a home to hate,
A closet and a well kept haircut.
A companion for your late night,
Movie notions.
A warm body so you don’t wake,
From your dreams alone.
A sometimes memory of your youth.
A reason to never seek more,
From life.
Someone to talk to,
When everyone else snubs you.
A failed attempt to be something,
To you.
A distant idea you never missed.
The number one thing,
You never needed.
The nagging thing,
Standing between you and happiness.
The bitch you wanted revenge on.
An alive and well reflection,
Of your behavior.
So you can hate us both.
The thing you almost wanted.
Something for you to abandon,
The way they abandoned you.
The cause of all wrong-doing.
The whore that never saw you.
The sociopath that never,
Cared for anything.
The small pleasure inside,
When you think you’ve won.
The always there, never ceasing,
Villain in your story.
The girl not even a mother could
Love.
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