year 2+

 i count time in years shams but lose count

numbers are not my thing

my dog is nine. he's nine you know

which means i lived here for 8 years or is it 7

and we broke up 8 years ago

and i still sometimes look at his twitter

just to say you were a better man at one time

a more interesting man maybe

or not

and then in the then i loved others

and you don't even matter now, old man, 

older than me, ten years younger

old man with your bad hair and your long fingers and your shake

old man outlook, old man habits

now i like someone with small hands

and perfect feet

did you have perfect feet?

I can't remember you except in pictures

i hope you are gray now and withered and smell bad

i hope you are sad you left me

that's a terrible thing to want for someone

i want you to be happy too

i want you to have forgotten me

i want to have forgotten you which i have

i am onto someone else

someone

else

who 

doesn't want me either