Poem: Not Allowed

I should have never bought this pair of tights, so you wouldn’t have ripped and messed them and my hair.

I should have never answered your calls filled with your needs for cold coffee, which consumed my time.

I would not have talked about my past, if you haven’t had asked your childish questions about my origin.

Why have I sat on you playing that game of boiling emotions and eggs in the morning three times and again?

I hereby pronounce: You are not allowed to think of me anymore. Clean your dirty mind of mine quickly.

3aprXX17

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