He doesn’t want all of you

Only that one little piece

That he can suckle

Or cuddle with

That makes him feel Just a little more of a man

Than his cock does.

He doesn’t care how many times you fail

Or how it makes you feel.

He doesn’t care about the night in the hospital

You were begging every god you could think of

To take your life right then.

Nor does he care about the moment you realized

You were going to live

And had to carry on With the stupidity that is your life.

He doesn’t care about the writings you did for him

They were long forgotten like everything else

That he seems to forget

When he wants to feel sorry for himself.

He doesn’t care the many

Hundreds of times you were there for him

When he sits around talking

About how nobody cares for him at all.

He doesn’t care about your books

Or how you dedicated that one strictly to him

But gets teary eyed

And begins digging in his pockets

When someone else talks about the hours they poured into theirs.

He doesn’t care that you put your soul into what you write

Because he doesn’t want your soul It means nothing to him.

If you want to cut him to the bone

You speak poorly of a friend

Or someone else he cares dearly for,

You don’t cry about what he has done to you

Because he has justified all of that

To the point that he could actually do more

And feel fine about it.

He doesn’t care how much you send to him

On a holiday meant for people in love

Just that you don’t make him feel guilty

For sending you nothing.

He doesn’t care how wrapped up you get In talking about how fantastic he is

Because you are just a girl

And not a very famous one

So why would he listen to you?

He doesn’t care how much you love him

How much time you give him

As long as he gets that little piece of you

The only part of you that he wants.

The only thing you can do Is hope another woman distracts him enough That little part of you Will no longer interest him.