An Open Letter [poem] to My [kinda, but not really] Ex. | The PG13 Version
Posted on 19 December 2018
Christmas and the lights make me think of us.
Dyker Heights in your Lex, didn’t need a tour bus.
Now it’s getting cold, like Life Below Zero.
Still never saw Heat with Robert De Niro.
Wednesdays were my favorite, corny I know.
Woke up hung over with bedside to go.
When we ate soup it took place on your couch.
Did not even mind when you were a grouch.
Miss your big head and laughing together.
Miss playing darts in dark rainy weather.
Miss the late nights we went to see Dice.
Love when you smile so I took you twice.
Buzzed your fuzzy back for a quick trip to Vegas.
Prayed you wouldn't bring home something contagious.
Nights in black limos with Guin drinking Blue.
Even in the city my eyes looked for you.
Thanks for Stock X, my cute feet are poppin.
Thought of you when those Concords were droppin.
Still hear your loud mouth in back of my head.
This Brooklyn banana counts to "tree" instead!
You gave me Jax Teller and Hank Moody too.
"That's Life" will always remind me of you.
It's disturbing how much you grew on me.
Our time was so fun, aside from my knee.
But you yelled on my birthday and never called back.
I’ll forever think, that was plain wack.
I didn't deserve that and you know it too.
Legit have no idea what happened to you...
Still owed L&B and a corner slice.
Along with tequila and extra ice.
So disappointed and continue to be.
I adored this man that acted selfishly.
You helped me in ways that I've never told.
Thought you were my homie, guess you thought it's old.
Hate that we lost touch, it still feels like shit.
Always assumed you were more legit.
Miss your sweet side, it was totally mushy.
Don’t even front, you miss my round tushy.
It misses you too, most days that's a fact.
Now just say you’re sorry before you get cracked.
Get your head out your ass 'cause it's not a snack.
And come pick me up in your Cadillac.
A bottle of Johnny raised up to the sky…
Merry Christmas, old friend, ya shithead of a guy.