I need to talk about the pain
of isolation from mankind.
You want to talk about the size
of your ex-boyfriend’s Mum’s behind.
I need to talk about my shock
that people don’t care for each other.
You want to talk about the price
of your new day-glo teapot-cover.
I need to talk about my rage
that no-one hears me when I cry.
You want to talk about the fact
you’ve overcooked your shepherd’s pie.
I need to talk about my love
for a heartless stand-alone favourite
that storms, unnoticed, year after year.
You tell me to get over it.
