EXECRABLE PASTICHE

I don’t nag him or cook for him or buy him anything
I don’t check up on him or support him or see him in the morning
You’re more than welcome to be the love of his life
And help him build up his hopes and dreams
You’re more than welcome to be mad that he still can’t afford
to buy you all of the finer things
You’re more than welcome to clean his shit, his clothes, his browser history and his snot
You’re more than welcome to take him to court and get judgements for everything he’s got
You’re more than welcome to worry where he goes alone for hours when he’s mad
You’re more than welcome to check his phone and plot and sit home alone sad
It’s not my problem or my business, his mother or wife I clearly am not
It’s not my problem or my business, his sister or daughter can unravel those knots
I don’t take care of him or obey him or try to keep his ass on track
I don’t want him and I don’t need him so I don’t have to take any of his flack
And he must like that on some level since I’ve got a superior knack
to keep anybody who is claiming somebody else always coming back…

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