The Other Woman

Heavy rain and sleeping pain, of all the men I've talked to, it still felt mundane. Exhausted body and a drunken mind, but if it's you, oh, come now! I don't mind. If it's not you, it's not anyone, I was not made for everyone. Every no, don't, and stop, I say to someone, is a yes, yes, and yes to you, my only one. You kissed the wounds of our past. As we were alone and going fast, you still managed to ask, "Who was the last?" Silly, if this were a movie, you would surely be lonely because you would be the only one cast. Flame was the name of the game we played, the game that I once knew I could never win against you. Who are we fooling? Again, it's me that I betrayed, and turned a blind eye, for I craved to feel once more "that" shade of hue. In the end, I've always been the other woman. From the beginning, she was there; it was always her, before me, and even after "us," you always think she's the one. After I left, you were with another woman, but your thoughts always returned to her. Does she know?