Wednesday, March 28, 2012

"Infidelity Theory"

"Infidelity Theory"

There you go:
You say "You know better
than to send love letters
to rug munchers and home wreckers!"
You say you're leaving me alone.
Well, can I at least have my phone;
and before we start fighting,
can I get that in writing?

I mean, if you want to be frank,
this king sized bed isn't yours,
and that key won't unlock the door,
but your back also meets my floor.
That's not my wedding ring,
In fact, I never bought you anything
more than cheap wine or onion rings;
so how can you judge my flings?

Oh; so now I'm a hypocrite
When you send me that text
after your husband chews you out
and calls you on your shit?
You've got some wit, girl.
Finish your fit, girl.
Go on, now. Quit, Girl.......

......the fire's lit, girl........

The chair smacks the wall.
I flip over the coffee table.
Neighbors listen. My name is called.
We get violent and unstable.

That crazy, ugly, dirty,
dangerous shit that you like:
pounding you in the recliner,
drilling you on my exercise bike,
Legs up in the corner.
You climb walls like towers
whilst I serve you with power.
We finish in the shower.

Pizza Rolls in the microwave
next to the Hawaiian Punch.
You ask if I have money saved.
You want to go out for lunch.
You get that crazy look
then you say "Never mind..."
I'm ironing my work clothes.
You stroke me from behind.

I say "It's time for you to go."
You say "Why, baby? take it slow...
...you're bulging...watch it grow..."
I guess I can't say no...

I missed three text messages.
The phone rings twice.
I've lost all hesitance.
Your lips feel so nice......

You're hungry for more;
but I just heard the car door...
"Shit! Girl, stop!"
My pants fall to the floor.

What's more:

Your lipstick is on my boxers,
You left marks on my chest,
and your perfume is on my vest...

You duck behind the chair;
but she can see your fake hair.
"Baby, it's not what you think..."
She heads straight for the sink.

The necklace and wedding ring
are grinding in the shredder.
She says "I knew it was that bitch!
Now it's time to behead her!!!!"

With a meat cleaver in her hand,
she has already outlined her plan.
I try to stop her. She trips.
Her phone falls from her hips.

You escape through the back door;
The phone buzzes on the floor.
"Are you free tonight, baby?
I've something special in store."

I can't believe my eyes.
Who would've thought to wonder?
The text on my wife's phone
came from your husband's number...

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

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