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The address of your place is still in the Uber app.

There are also three packages of the “coffee” that you left.

My bank password is your birthday, do you at least remember mine?

I try to talk about amenities, but I end up opening a bottle of wine.

At night,

I listen to cheesy songs to confront you, but do you even care?

I suddenly remember your arguments and question: how did you dare?

I loved our long talks, but I need to spill the tea:

I’m sure that your clever jokes were just ChatGPT.

I write in my notepad, so I won’t let you know.

I try my best to accept, but I wish she would discover your flaws.

I say and truly believe that I don’t give a damn to the past, But I am writing another poem about you, swearing this one will be the last.