A Haiku For Every Guy I’ve Slept With

Painting by Jack Vettriano

Painting by Jack Vettriano

I’ve got post-Valentine’s hangover. Before I get married next week, I want to revisit all my past lovers for the last time and see how I got here before letting every single one go. So I wrote a response to Benedict Smith’s ”A Haiku For Every Girl I’ve Ever Slept With”.

  1. How do girls die twice?
    Abuse her, destroy her youth.
    They’ll still call you cool.


  1. I cheated with you.
    You were a douchebag but thanks
    for setting me free.


  1. Great sex helped us fall
    in love. It’s been an epic
    love story. Goodbye.


  1. They say experience
    comes with age. You were three-five,
    they were so damn right.


  1. You forgot your girl
    friend. I remember your small
    dick. You were the worst.


  1. We were too alike.
    You fell asleep during sex.
    Wasted good friendship.


  1. You whispered “I love
    yous” while you were inside me.
    I can still hear them.


  1. I only kissed you
    ’cause our friends begged me to. I
    felt sorry – sorry.


  1. You’re hot when you’re drunk.
    You ate me in the shower.
    I ate your sushi.


  1. You cooked me breakfast
    and kissed me goodnight. I was
    not ready for it.


  1. I was bored and you
    looked like number six. I hate
    that you cuddled me.


  1. Scientists are smart
    but not when it comes to bed.
    Don’t get too attached.


  1. The snow on your skin
    set me on fire. The marks I
    made matched your reef cuts.


  1. Humor is sexy.
    Laughed while we fucked, I’m not so
    empty anymore.


  1. You were the first to
    write about me. We slept with
    fireflies in my room.


  1. You’re too high on meth
    to know what you want. I don’t
    wanna be your cure.


  1. An almost threesome.
    You loved my blow jobs too much.
    It got boring quick.


  1. Rough sex is good but
    kindness is better. Should’ve
    kissed your friend instead.


  1. Have not met you yet.
    I’m waiting, and it’s worth it.
    I hope you’re the last.


  1. You’re a coward with
    a lion’s roar. I was wrong,
    so wrong about you.


  1. A player got played.
    Fucked your friend to piss you off.
    Smile, boy, no loss here.


  1. Another name off
    my bucket list. I don’t give
    a shit anymore.


  1. Gave up on love when
    you asked, ”Do you still want me?”
    Finally? I do.



Sade Andria Zabala is a twenty-four year old Filipina surfer sometimes living in Denmark. She is the author of poetry books War Songs and Coffee and Cigarettes. Her work has appeared on places such as Literary Orphans, The Thought Catalog, The Rising Phoenix Review, Hooligan Magazine, Germ Magazine, and more. In her spare time she likes to eat words and drink sunlight. You can purchase her books here. 

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