I got a” Happy Holiday” greeting the other night
from a man I used to date.
He’d dumped me hard more than one time.
So why be nice now? Isn’t it a bit too late?
I thought I wasn’t angry any more.
I thought I’d moved on and could feel no more pain.
But his holiday wishes put an edge on me
and they seemed particularly lame.
I wish for him several things
but none of them have to do with holidays or joy.
I wish he’d suffer at least as much as me.
I wish someone would treat him like he’s their toy.
I hope someday he realizes the mistake he’s made.
But it’s too late to change his fate.
I hope he forever wants what he can’t have.
I hope he tries but never has another date.
I hope his clothes never fit right again.
I hope his face breaks out in hives.
I hope he grows hair where men never should.
I hope he learns to hate being alive.
I hope his car breaks down every day.
I hope his bank account gets emptied out.
I hope his penis remains forever limp.
I hope his ankles swell up with gout.
I hope no one will be his friend;
that men walk away and women run.
I hope his misery never ends.
I hope he never again has any fun.
I hope his balls swell up and fall right off.
I hope the doctor can’t stop his cough.
I hope dogs and cats chase him wherever he goes.
I hope he grows numerous warts upon his nose.
I hope every day for him is worse than the last.
Meanwhile I hope I’m having a blast!
I hope he learns from his mistakes
no matter how long on earth it takes.
More than all this I wish for me
that I had never really cared.
I wish I hadn’t let him get into my heart.
I wish my pain had all been spared.