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The first time we met he looked right past me, didn’t notice the breath almost escape my chest. didn’t notice how I was jumping into conversations and laughing shyly at a joke he didn’t even make, but he was shaped like my dreams and looked like my future husband, I am going to make him the one.

so who cares that he didn’t give me a good night call, or how he missed every moment to miss me, I am grown enough to miss myself everytime that feeling of being loved should creep in. the distant glance in his eyes whenever I am around is nothing more than a perfectly crafted concept of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, besides he resides within the depths of my soul.

Ill feed him with my very pride, strip it off my back lay it bare on a sunday night knocking on his door because a way to a man’s heart is through a women’s low self esteem.  My hands shaking at a mere thought of the key turning for attention, I mean I know how he does not like surprises.

My path to happiness reaching a crossroad, his face pasted on the signage that reads Mr wrong, in the distance he sits on a throne,  shooting my efforts in his mouth like porcon, a sign that he acknowledges my mere existence. I carve the word “right” with my blood and pour sweat on all my wishes.

Good girls don’t give up and strong woman must endure to one day feel a fraction of the love they deserve, I’ll turn this one to the one  no matter how much tears drip from my broken heart.

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