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.