the rain is testing its relationship
against my single-glazed windows
the droplets fatten & throw themselves with force
like how the personal trainer from manchester
is thrusting himself upon the influencer-slash-model from newcastle
as she time & time again
bats his hand away from holding hers
once he performs the laborious task
of putting all his eggs in her basket
he can sleep soundly surrounded by dozens
knowing he’s bagged a fit bird
meanwhile the rain has proven itself
& cracks on through the glass
steadily damping my carpet
while i watch love island in my flooded living room
ankles damp & dripping
the country exclaims as we got a text (!)
i leave the government on read
as if i’d go outside anyway bc
… TONIGHT …
there is a bombshell entering the villa
& they’re looking to graft
the existing couples quake in their skimpy swimwear
oiled muscles undulating
at the possibility of being pulled for a chat
meanwhile ice has formed
a strong connection with the murky swamp
that is my house
now the season has come to an end
& i don’t know where my head’s at
i’ve accidentally mugged off all my friends
my cold damp house is unfit to live in
& i can’t afford to buy any groceries
but oh to be in the villa
no wifi no books no war no outside no thoughts no
worrying just two drinks per night just
sitting by the pool just chatting just vibes
just fucking vibes