A pet peeve confession #20142.
Is it my responsibility or yours
when we make plans to do something
hang out at some place
and then when the date comes
do I let you know
or do you let me know
the night before
if one of us can’t make it?
Suppose I know that you have a busy schedule
and I ask if you can confirm with me on a particular day
and you agree to this whole-heartedly
only for the day to actually come
and I, not hearing anything from you,
reach out to you and ask
“what is, uh, up?”
You respond with
“My bad! My friend’s in town and I’ll be out of town for two weeks!”
What. The. Fuck.
I can feel the veins ever so slightly tighten around my neck
as I contemplate whether I should go to your place
and vandalize it with eggs
for wasting my goddamn motherfucking quasi-precious time.
Such thoughts rage in my ever-so uptight head.
Or if you constantly tell me
“I’ll be busy for quite some time, doing this and that”
and then I see you celebrating your life
showcasing yourself on these horrific social media outlets
of your amazing social well being with drinks and food
and I stare at these with twitching eyes
and wish I can yell across the distance
“HEY FUCKER. JUST TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH ME.
YOUR PRETTY WORDS ARE SO FUCKING STUPID
HOLY SHIT FUCKING BALLSACK MOTHERFUCKING DONKEYASSPUNCH.”
to your face and hope that you will receive such words
with complete and utter understanding
of the insignificant frustration that I feel
that I wish to convey to you right now.
this might be a grand gift
that I should stop making any efforts
with your busy you
you busy bee you
(hope a bee goes in your pants and stings you up the ass.)