It would be nice, right, if life were like a romcom

Everything would be dandy, wouldn’t have to get savvy

And you’d be running through New York on New Year’s Eve like

In When Harry met Sally –

But my lovelife’s a little bit more Noah and Ali

Yeah you should probably get the tissues

And not in the good way

Because I’m driving at seventy but there’s speedbumps on my motorway –

And I’ve got this fear, right, that I’m gonna marry the wrong one

Or I’ll get to the Empire State Building and Chuck will already be gone

Or you’re looking Pretty in Pink but he’s brought another girl to the prom.

Because don’t get me wrong – I love a romcom

But it’s no good pretending these films are based off real dudes

When the three little words I receive

Tend to be please send nudes –

I guess what I’m saying is romcoms just aren’t realistic

These films are getting our expectations all twisted

Because I’m expecting all the empathy and love of The Breakfast Club

But, when I walk in the pub, your eyes hit the floor

And I’m ignored

And, boy, I’m fucking bored

I can think of Ten Things I Hate About You

And ten more things I would like to throw at you.

I guess this romance thing just isn’t easy, eh?

Because like in Easy A, these boys are sleezy, eh?

And I could waste my days waiting for a text back and two blue ticks

Or I could get on with living my life, avoiding these pricks.

I’ll be a Pretty Woman with my own credit card.

And, babe, you can Call Me By Your Name when the going gets hard

But til then, I am so good just being a girl –

Stood in front of a microphone – spilling some truth.

Categories: Poetry