I wanted to hide this,

I just read a song you wrote,

Combining ME AND YOUR FRIEND.

I am not five foot nine,

I am shorter,

You called mom to come home with ME!

I’m pissed,

And sick today,

So not thinking,

And yes you are younger than I.

Mom said YES!

You could sleep over at my place,

And you were nineteen!

Lover you are full of shit,

Combining me with your current fucks.

You love me,

You would not be ***CENSORED*** others.

You’d be a man,

Chasing what you love,

Than settling for the easy to get.

Oh I forgot.

Damage is done,

I guess I believing,

Ho,

And then in the back ground,

Amanda.

***CENSORED*** you!

***CENSORED***.

You were a man then,

Acted like that on the day bed,

Which you were too long for,

And on the floor,

Because you were too tall for the ***CENSORED*** bed.

So since when do you call your mom,

At twenty something to be with,

Your friend,

Unless you were with her,

And Angel,

And me…

Yes you are no womanizer,

I know that because you are more like me.

Shy as hell,

And in an industry,

Where your life entertains,

As well as your movies,

And songs.

So sue me for a ***CENSORED*** poem book.

Try it,

Because in the end,

This is fantasy,

And we are not friends,

You are a lover,

And I slept in your arms,

Enjoying your post sex smell.

So do not write about me,

When you are ***CENSORED*** another.

Screw you!