On Denmark memories I've never had

 Hey, you, my beloved one

I've noticed your visits and assume you're now gone 

Back home in Denmark, far away from the suburbs of Rio

And far away from my shitty bed and shitty apartment 

From which I've already moved from

Perhaps you're looking for a sign I still think of you

Perhaps you've never visited this blog at all

I was but one of your many playthings 

And as playthings often do, I loved you 

I created this whole life with you in my head

All the while being your loyal little pet 

So if you ever come by and wonder "Did she love me" or "Why?"

Know that playthings also love 

Even those who don't deserve it

For me, I am fine, as far as you're concerned 

You're but a moment, a fleeting memory, a bitter taste, and the vague memory of your colours on the fur of my orange cat

I was once yours 

But I wasn't a pet, no 

I was once yours

But now I am allowed to forget. 

As I once yelled while you degraded me to my core: Go away. 

And please, please, never come back.