(I almost feel bad writing this.)
Are you aware of your lover's past,
and the woman that made it up?
Has he ever even spoken my name?
I don't suppose you'll ever tell me,
I won't blame you.
I almost feel like I know you.
Perhaps it's the shared interest in poetry,
or the boy who loved us both
at the same time.
I know he'll pretend
like you are his one and only
but he has used that title before,
and look what I am now.
I’m just another "psycho ex"
he'll tell you you're so different from,
but you aren't the only thing
he's willing to lie about.
I loved your lover
like nobody else could,
and I promised him my forever
not so long before you did as well.
Though I'm sure he'll tell you otherwise,
nobody's loved him better.
I'd like to watch you try though,
if you decide he's still worth the trouble
after this trip to the confessionals.
On the off chance
you knew the whole time
and still loved him anyways,
I hope he forever feels
like stolen property,
and I hope he tastes like guilt.
(Oh dear Ani,
have I offended you?)
Truthfully you seem quite nice,
and far too good for a boy like him.
I know better than most
about love's blindfolding properties,
but I ask you to remove
your rose-coloured glasses,
even just for a minute.
If he still has your heart
then I wish you well,
but I hope your lover burns,
and I'll see him in hell.