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She doesn’t trust men anymore.
One she loved, a long time ago now,
Left her, pregnant, crying on the floor.
You may read about that, in her murky workshop poetry with elaborate metaphor,
But she doesn’t like to talk about that anymore.
She tried a final time with one who couldn’t make decisions
And hated herself for finding him a bore,
Her caustic moments towards him imitating the very guy’s demeanor who left her crying on the floor.
So now, thoroughly self-loathing, you can probably guess what she’s like.
Happy. Pretty. Published. Lots of friends. Don’t feel bad, really, that she told you to take a hike.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.

Clik here to view.
