I thought he’d propose!
a pre-Valentine’s prophecy. Idiotic and unreasonable.
I just presumed it all,
presumed that love existed these days,
that it was him, my love.
Huh…him that asshole, my love! yeah, right! rolls my eyes
delusional, I guess;
Though his asking ‘do you hav a boyfrien?’ advocated it at times,
there’s always some action for a react, you know newton —
All the cooing and ‘cuddling’:
the fact that I knew he loved me from the beginning,
so did that he’s just playing!
And then when it changed to ‘dont you hav a boyfrien?’,
well that was that.
And though I aint not into him anymore,
YET a remote part of the heart swayed me to pen down something, he the muse.
Yes, you got it right,
‘tis the heart!
stupid dumb heart!
one hell of a fuck’d-up vital organ.
*dedicated to a beautiful liar; wish he’d read it! Anyway, screw him.