Stupid Break-Up Poem # 46- rejj ©

Yes, it’s the ongoing
eulogy of you and me,
except you’re not dead
yet
more evidence
that wishes are
just misspent pennies
and planets
masquerading as stars
If I had a rocket,
I would shoot your ass
to mars,
but see how that’s me
still caring about you
me and my imaginary ship
sending you beyond the moon
and you with your very real car
couldn’t make time to
drive me home
Wait, no this is the part where
I talk about resplendence
and the Disney-like magic of our first kiss
filled with all the possibilities
that never quite materialized
Blah, blah, blah,
some cliché,
longing incessantly,
missing your this and that,
but no bitterness
and no regret,
that’s all in poems 1-23
(the I miss you / hate you series)
And I miss you
and hate you
a little,
(okay, a lot)
but not as much as I miss being free
to think about other things.
This break-up is like having a terminal disease!
All the visitations, flowers, and sympathy icecream…
I just want to go dancing
and get sweaty
and grind on other men without a single thought of you.
Shit, I really miss you,
wait, no, that’s poem 42
I’m over it now
46 is all about the bliss
Cause I’m over it baby
I’m so damn over these blues,
I wanna be orange again
and wear turquoise shoes that never go with anything.
I wanna be the girl you met
before you met me,
so I can disrupt the time space continuum
and date your friend instead,
oh, but he turned out to be an asshole too.
I guess it had to be you.
It had to be,
it was,
and now thankfully
we’re through.