Wednesday, July 29, 2009


hope is a drunk asshole
he threw his glass over his head
and it landed behind me
bounced twice on the carpeted stair
and tumbled down another two
before he turned around
and asked me what my problem was
“you’re my problem,” I say to him
guiding him towards the door
“I keep seeing you around and it’s always a drag.”
“what ever happened to you?” he asks
“you used to be a nice guy, you used
to be fun and we had crazy times.”
“I know we did,” I say, continuing to walk
to assist in his departure
“we did have some good times,
but that doesn’t mean I’ve ever liked you.
I can have good times with friends or with people
I don’t even like. You’re in the second category.”
“I can’t believe you, man. I can’t believe
you’re kicking me out of here.”
“it didn’t have to be like this. If you weren’t
a cocksucker, I wouldn’t have to kick you out.”
he turns to me and I’m ready to fight
but then he turns around and walks out
shouting over his shoulder how the place sucks
and how I suck and how everything sucks.
once he’s gone I take a deep breath
and just like after all the previous encounters with him
this person who thought I was his friend
this person who I’ve never liked
I hope that I’ll never see him again

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