Warning: Bitch Mode

First things first:
Whoever gets even remotely offended by this
I’m so so sorry I’m just too bloody pissed
Not gonna let one poor person take the whole rant
I’ll just get it all out there, harm is probably meant
Besides, since I’ve got the time and I’ve got the rhymes
I’ll commit social suicide, I’ll commit this crime
Let’s just leave it at that, don’t come running to me
To say “You’re a bitch, you should chill, I’m sorry”
Don’t leave any comments on this post
Pretend it’s my mistake, I’m not going to boast
One last warning: there’ll be vulgarities
This will sound more like bad rap than sad poetry

Moving on:
You all know I’m don’t mince my remonstrations
It doesn’t mean you all don’t owe me an explanation
Don’t give me that crap about how I said I wasn’t keen
You all know how much any time spent with him means
Fine, I would have been the sacrifice if you had made the request
But I hope you’ve all learnt the Importance of Being Honest
Oh right, and you, you who fell asleep on my sofa
Who forced all of us to lie to my menopausal mother
Did you know that I told her you were tired cos of insomnia
When the truth was you just drank a shitload of vodka?!
For someone who can’t spell the word ’embarrassment’
You sure are the queen of drunken sexual harrassment
If anyone thinks those comments are unfair,
Boohoo, too bad, at least I’m laying this bare

Ok, I’m just going to admit it:
Everything that makes me mad stems from You
And by mad I mean angry and crazy and blue
I’m so fucking sick of writing about tears
Just let me be poetically pissed without fear
Don’t think cos Your ass is so damn delicious
I’m not gonna be correspondingly vicious
Is my picture going up on Your OCS noticeboard?
Cos I know for a fact You have no photos of me on record
Stop asking me that question, “Brown or Oxford?”
Are You stroking Your ego, you bloody bastard?
I’m sick of hearingΒ  “Which scholarship?”, “US or UK?”
What the hell are You expecting me to say?
It’s not as if I have the right to make You stay
For all I know You might as well be gay
You know it ain’t that hard for people to think that
You probably don’t even get hard for those Pussycats
Whatever, just go be a whore to Your beloved PSC
Okay fine that was mean You do need the money
Screw it, I might as well be angry at me
For letting myself fall so hard and deeply
It’s not as if You’d even be tempted at all
If You got an unconditional offer to me in the Fall
I’ll take what I can get, but it’s not very much anymore
It’s only the weekends, three hours or four
I fucking miss You and us and studying alone
When everyone else in the world had already gone home
And we’d talk about the future and what really could be
Forever leaving out the future of You and me

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