to the guy who doesn’t like me

look at it this way:

I don’t live in your house.

I live in my house.

you live differently than I do.

I’m not saying that’s bad.

I’m not saying that’s good.

I’m not feeling sorry

for you or for me.

these are our own circumstances.

your walls hang different pictures.

your mantle is strange to me;

like another planet filled with

otherworldly beings.

you know these people.

you’ve loved them, too.

I struggle to maintain long sentences.

they seem to lose their momentum.

I question every comma.

If I was a comma I’d be homeless.

I like what you’ve done with the place.

the view from the window

resembles the “Ashcan School”.

remember those guys?

I should clean-up.

I should vacuum the rugs.

I should mind my own business.

you should be more like me.