After tonite
it'll all ease up
but I look
and I see them
-arm in arm-
and I can't visualize
another
where she is,
let alone myself
(some times).

Can I give him
all of me
the way
I think I want to?

What if the sun
finally
rises
and I'm not the person
he thought me to be?

Will the fairy tale collapse again?

Tonite
is her mad-dash.
Tonite
is the final
trial.

What if
in 10 or so hours
she wins back a heart
that's never really left?

Will things go back
to the way the were
before all of this?
Will they?
Leave me to be
a Cinderella
trying hard to re-fit
shards of glass?

I'll refuse the slipper.
Stupid
materialistic
boy.
BOY Boy boy.
Take all
give little
and show the bitch who's boss.
Fuck that.
I won't have it,
no matter how many
girls gush
over redlettered jackets.

And here's the kicker
"Sex."
"Sex."
"That's all it is."
"Obviously"
"why would he want her
for anything else"
Fuck that too.
I almost wish they knew me
almost.
I find lately
I couldn't care less,
but they'd realize
that who I am
and what I do
is not viewable
in olive skin
and saucer eyes.

No regrets.
None.
Not worth it.
I see what he meant
when he said that, now.

Perhaps a scant month
will be all that it's worth;
though my doubts beg to differ
doubts often prove false.
Then give me that month!
It would be, at least
one month of love
-by choice-
and not fruitless
obligation.

04/26/2003

Author's Note: I decided to pull this one from my library because, well, it's interesting the way events have played out, as compared to this.

Posted on 04/27/2003
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia