What is it you said about six years ago?

  That my hair had me looking like soul glow?

  And what did you do after you came over my house?

  You went back to work and started running your mouth.

  You talked about my ill grandmother,

  sick and defecating on herself in bed,

  and called my little brother fat.

  Damn, why you gotta be talking about a little kid like that?

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Now you see me on Facebook,

  I’m a friend of a friend.

  You send me a friend request,

  denied,

  damn, you just got reported as spam.

  Nope, don’t know you.

  I spot you at the library sitting at the computer.

  I know you’ll come over in a minute or sooner.

  I remember how fake you were

  and how you talked about me.

  You told everyone on the job how I abstained from fucking.

  I get up and head for the door

  and I see you get up too.

  You move in close and ask, “How do you do?”

  Girl, I keep on moving and just coolly ignore you.

  Nope, don’t know you.

  How could it be so many fake people in the world?

  It’s always the ones who supposed to be so real.

  You see, you messed up

  what could have been a good friendship

  and evidently got the shorter end of the deal.

  Keep on moving,

  that’s what you need to do.

  Cuz as I said before,

  nope, I don’t know you.