If I had an imaginary boyfriend

life would be less complicated for sure

we’d walk along the beach together

take wild vacations all over the world

he would laugh at my jokes every time

and sing me to sleep on a winter’s night

he wouldn’t notice my morning breath

or think my feet are gross

he would be perfect and lovely

and –

nine years ago I killed him

nine years ago today

I cut off his head with a yes to a boy

who wasn’t quite so imaginary

today life can be complicated

but it’s ours, his and mine, just us two

with our cats and our laughter and our tears

walks to the shops through littered streets

through the same old city that we love

he thinks my jokes are terrible

and his singing drives me to distraction

our morning breath is terrible

and my feet aren’t all that great

he’s an odd ball a lovely odd ball

then again so am I

I’m glad I killed my imaginary boyfriend

because now I have someone real and he’s mine.

 


I’m really really tired so it’s probably not a good time to write a poem, but here we have a potentially creepy poem about me killing an imaginary person and having smelly breath. This is one to be regretted when I am reunited with sleep.

Daily prompt from The Daily Post: Imaginary

 

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