I don't know if you found me,

Or if you aren't what I believe.

I don't know if it's fate laughing at me,

Or an obscure coincidence.

I don't know who you are,

But I know one thing:

If you are who I think you are,

I'm not writing for you.

I don't miss you,

And your freaky way of life.

I don't think of you in fondness,

Only with disgust and distaste.

I don't ever wish,

I still had your number.

If you're the voice from my past,

Get over yourself and move on.

Because

I

Don't

Miss

You.

Did I make it very clear?

I wish I had never met you.

How's that; can you hear me now?

You think I write for you?

Boy, don't make me laugh.

You, sadly, share the same name,

With my wonderfully loving husband.

So don't think for one minute,

You're the object of my desires.

Boy, take a hint:

On top of every other amazing quality he has,

He's bigger than you in every way…