Bitterfuck

-by Devdutt Nawalkar

Day come day go. Strut, preen, put on act. Different face for different day, new garb for new occasion. You’re acting up, putting airs. Need this, need that. Fill me emotionally, be more attuned to my inner woman. No, no, no. I don’t care about your inner anything. You shit, you piss, just like I and your mother. Jumble of inchoate stuff, not above shit. I can’t wrap my head around your bullshit. It’s all bullshit. Call me, be more considerate, don’t be so coarse. Horn OK Please, Fuck Off. I’m tired like a dog, my nerves can’t take more of this garbage. “Hey, how’s it going? Oh really, that’s great, so interesting”. It’s never interesting. You’re boring, you put me to sleep at 11 in the morning. Your stupid face feigning indignation barely manages to suppress your general incomprehension of everything that transpires around you. Like lead you weigh me down . Your chatter leaves me physically exhausted. Sparrows fall out of skies after one of your airwave clusterfucks. “Hey, why don’t you talk more? Why so quiet?” I’m quiet, but I’m marvelling on the inside – always on the inside – at the colossal waste of space and flesh and grey stuff that you are.

Speaking of colossal, you’re fat. I say you’re curvy but what I really mean to say is that a couple of cheeseburgers on the side will put you on the fasttrack to becoming a bonafide beached whale. No centerfold bimbo you, babe. Your affectations cut through my skin, scrape against my bone like the little prick back in school who dragged his nails against the blackboard. I wish I could strangle you but they’d put me away certified.

I have in my head though. Every day of the last three years. I even made a little ditty in your memory, one I sang every morning on the john. You kept me going in a way, helped me through some hard times. I’m grateful for that.

Today I found out that you got married. Popped out a kid too. I think I’m finally over you.