Crazy, Right? - Mel Afoa

Honey, honey,
you'll never guess what.
A girl, our age,
claimed she slept with you while I was away.
She was describing intimate details,
how you wrapped your arms around her,
pressed your lips against hers,
and then preceeded 'downstairs' one night in the alleyway.
She talked of your strong hold on her heart,
your the only man to hold the key to it.
She started telling me about a story that happened recently,
a party that she claimed you and her had the intimacy.
She had dressed in her finest black, lacy dress,
complemented with glittered silver high heels,
14 carot-silver necklace and deep red lipstick.
Apparently, she had walked into the party looking for love,
and soon as she saw your eyes on her privates, she knew it was you.
She waltzed towards you with speed and grace,
whisking you up for a dance and light drinks.
Minutes later, you whispered in her ear, begging her to join you,
join you in the fantasy world of lust.
She agreed immediately.
Clothes were torn, moans were heard, positions were made,
all night long, no stopping, she said.
And here's the weird part honey,
she started to warn me of your ways.
She said you broke her heart when you left her that night,
since you promised her you were hers forever.
Another woman came out of nowhere,
claiming she heard our gossiping, heard your name mentioned,
and she too warned me of your deadly ways.
You apparently got her pregnant, then walked away,
and after depression and near-death experiences,
she lost 'your' baby. She started getting teary.
She warned me that my heart would tear and then rip in pieces,
and I'll be the one to hold the dustpan.
Crazy, right?
So I just laughed and walked away.