You have spray-painted grafitti all over my life and I am sick of the tags.
People in the neighborhood don’t know anymore if I’m a felon or a philosopher.
Every morning when I wake up, I am covered with some new colorful, bubble-lettered acronym standing for your latest rant.
Is this how you spend your nights, illustrating my psyche with your urban tattoos?
Well, I’m taking a shower before I go out to the store.
And that spray paint better be gone before I get home.
I’m going to buy you a computer.