I’m not a jealous person.
But sometimes that gross little monster
comes into my body without asking first.
He eats me alive but saves the skin for last.
He starts in my stomach and he fills up my lungs.
He’s brutal and he hurts me. I kind of like it.
I met him again at this party.
It’s funny because I remember coming here with our friends,
but now I’m standing all alone.
He corners me and tells me to look at you.
With her. I didn’t want to come here.
I go to the middle of the room and I dance with my jealousy.
It’s your favorite song. I know all the words.
I used to listen to it on repeat.
For you, but then for me. It’s a good song.
It makes me think of you, but I don’t want to.
So I sing louder. I dance faster.
I let my jealousy take me.
Someone get me another drink.
Turn this music up.
I wake up early and alone. I don’t get hungover.
I check my phone and listen to your favorite song.
Not for you. It’s just a good song.