You always used to claim I was so omniscient, but presently I’m present in the text messages you should have been sent pre break-up. You now claim you’ve moved on, but what about all the tweets on twitter about twats who are bitter? All those cover up Instagram selfies with a big smile on your face, just to make sure everybody knows you’re so happy with being without me. Occasional conversations after many mouthfuls of cheap cognac you begged your sister to buy you for, why do you only open up to me after the bottle’s got his top off? Only say you still love me after you’ve been kissing his neck and swallowing everything he has to offer. As you can tell I’m still jealous, but what can I say, I guess I’m not your cup of tea when you’re drunk as fuck off of Hennessy.