first he calls you crazy <br />& then he calls you a slut <br />& then because you moved on <br />and wouldn't let him tear you down <br /> <br />well then he calls you immature and <br />desperate- taking comfort in the sad misconception: <br />you're making him jealous <br />thereby, <br />boosting his own ego. <br /> <br />when really you're <br />really <br />trying to make yourself happy <br />after he made you miserable; <br /> <br />and this makes him angry, bringing out his most <br />ugly features, her most beautiful ones <br /> <br />because you know she won't sit at home <br />crying under her covers- surrounded <br />in the false security <br />of her blankets. <br /> <br />you know she won't <br /> <br />you know she has..., <br /> <br />but you know she's learned now. <br /> <br />& it was okay for you to hit on onetwothree girls <br />seconds after you dumped her <br />but it was not okay for her to date a <br />week later. <br /> <br />cause you're a creep, <br />your friends know it; <br />her friends know it; <br /> <br />and who'll be around when you're comin' down <br />she will be. <br /> <br />she will be.<br /><br />s./j. goldner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bonfires-in-november/
