You chose to leave
but you’re still here,
with your ironic demands
and your empty vitriol.
You whined, on and on
about not being your own person,
arguing for your limitations
with how much you disliked the place,
the people, the pace of things –
like a tree blaming the forest –
and you championed a greener grass
but you’re still here,
filling space like a drunken wasp.
