there are those girls
you know those girls
girls who interject in conversations
and seamlessly turn ships around in bathtubs

you know those girls
those girls who talk to you like you’re 5
and justify fucking their best friend’s ex
because they’re in a weird place

you know those girls
who think their literary magazines
are more posh
more profound
than the bullshit that you’re reading
those new york fucking publications
you know

and at the end of the day
those girls go home
take off their dirty painter jeans
that should honestly be washed a couple times
but aren’t because they are posh and profound
like their literary magazines
and they silently curse girls like me
because I am not those girls

and you know what I do at the end of the day
at the end of the day
I call those girls
“Bitch Ass Eleanors”
And I laugh out loud