I miss you when I’m cooking eggs.
No. Really.

I miss you when I’m missing my new girl.
She has no ass like you.
But she has prettier eyes than you.
Eyes like two moons.
On a grey cloud.
She is nothing like you.
Nothing like us.
Nothing like the fights we had.
Until ugali and sukuma wiki.
Turned cold.
Like pussy before.
Nothing like you.
She is.
She is not a poet either.
So if I break her heart twice.
I’ll know her tears will be true.
Her pain won’t be empty words.
On a page.
And the world won’t give a damn.
About our drama.
Like who didn’t clean the dishes.
Or who texted first.
She won’t hide her smile.
Behind colourful words.
And three layers of lipstick.
She is nothing like you.
She is smart.
She is lonely.
I can easily cheat on her.
With you.
She is nothing without you.
Because I keep looking for you.
In her.
But soon she will become you.
Love will plant a bigger ass.
On her back.
Love will see.
What my eyes can’t.
I will love her.
Get drunk and cry.
On her shoulder.
Tell her about mum.
And her pneumonia.
She will miss me.
And cry too.
On my chest.
She will say she wants to marry me.
I will keep silent.
And stroke her hair.
Her hair is darker than yours.
Her arms too.
Her two arms.
Hold me.
Like a boring conversation.
Till I drool.
On her blouse.
I peep up her skirt.
When she is asleep.
Her thighs remind me.
Of my teenage days.
When I used to play double dutch.
With my sister and her cute friend.
At night I would dream.
About my sister’s cute friend.
Images of her knee caps.
When she lifted up her skirt.
To skip rope.
She dumped me.
The day she saw mama beat me up.
For peeing in bed.
It was my first wet dream.
She is my wet dream.
My new girl.
We haven’t fucked yet.
When we do.
She won’t smell like you.
I will bang her.
As if you are watching.
I will wear her legs.
Like a bow-tie.
She is nothing like you.
She can’t swath mosquitoes.
With her green slippers.
No red stains on my.
Bedroom wall.
So I have pimples.
From the bites.
She squeezes them hard.
She makes me laugh.
She is just a girl.
She is beginning to sound like you.
She wants money.
She wants to meet my family.
She wants my baby.
Pull my hair.
Hit it harder.
I’m cum.
She is pregnant.
I hope my daughter will be pretty.
With a butterfly hair-band.
And nothing like you.
Because you could have been her.
But mothers are nothing like you.
You are selfish.
You breathe too much.
During sex.
You sleep too much.
After sex.
I hate you.
I love you.
I miss you.
I don’t wanna see you.
I wanna see you.
I want to marry you.
I want to kill.
Your new boyfriend.
He can’t love you.
Like I do.
I’m drunk.
I wish I never learnt.
How to cook eggs.
Like you.
They taste like crap.
These eggs.
Because no one can fucking cook them.
Like you.
I won’t eat tonight.
I want to be a vegan.
So I won’t be thinking of you.
And these damn eggs.
Even for one night only.


11 thoughts on “If I Were to Write a Poem to an Ex

  1. somehow i find a bit of myself in here. i can’t cry. just scribble my pain in a notebook with loud music. but if i were to write a poem for an ex…it would just be as disjointed. great piece


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