“Sometimes,” I wrote back then, “it seems more like the anagrams are talking to each other.”
A: Noble, misunderstood…
B: [slide trombone sound]
A: Just go die or something.
B: Je suis morte! Good night.
A: Where’s the good stuff on my timeline?
B: Let me show you something different.
A: What is her phone doing?
B: Whispering “death”—oh, no…
A: What’s the point of saying it’s never gonna end?
B: Not even gonna dignify that with a response.
A: Pretty mamma, is you single?
B: You anger me past my limits.
A: I’ll see you around.
B: You’re delusional.
A: Guys…I’m an attention whore.
B: You want something? Earn it.
A: Moon is pretty tonight…
B: Stop trying to hit on me.
A: Your love has captured me.
B: Shut up, come over already.