Hmmm....

 She makes me so mad,

When she knows that I

Don’t know about all

Her love.

So used,  she says,

And I can’t

Argue, I’m

Terrible.

But I’m never mean.

I only do what I think

I believe, and beliefs

Are questionable.

She makes me jealous,

Her talent, her wit,

Her presence in a room

While I stand goofily,

With a drink in my hand wondering

Why I’m there at all.

She’s funnier,

She’s smarter,

She’s aware,

She’s emotional but right,

How the hell did she do that?

I’m only mad because

I can’t figure it out.

Some secret that I’m not

In on. Some special

Message in the soup,

A message in the tea.

Did that guy just look at her,

God damint, fuck that 

Mother fucker,

Mother fucker. 

Damn it.

Where she going?

Oh.