I woke up.
Looked straight up in my phone and realised all of these messages.
From poeple.
Pretending to care about me.
And me.
Pretending to care about them.
"wanna go to the movies?"
"hit me when you get home"
"how was your day?"
I decided to not pretend today.
All I thought of was how fucked this situation was.
"who is this girl?"
It still echoed in my head.
"oh one of my good friends"
"this is my girlfriend"
I still see his eyes.
I wish the memory would fade away.
But only the good things fade.
Only bad haunts us.
I looked into the mirror.
"you look like the better piece of me"
I don't.
I do.
I don't.
I am not a part of you.
I am a part of you.
I am not.
Brushed my hair.
Washed away the rests of my mascara and my lipstick that faded away last night.
Took off that color on my nails.
That chipped purple nail-polish.
Took out a nudish color.
She wears colors like that.
Covered my scars in my face.
Brushed my teeth.
Put on mascara and some lipstick.
Not these colors I wear.
Blue.
Black.
Orange.
No.
Pink.
Rose.
Nude.
Put on some rosy blush on the tops of my cheeks to make them look like peaches you'd like to eat.
I got off that, like weed smelling, badlands shirt.
Put it away with the bottle of liqour.
Deep down in the last edge of my closet.
Some decent clothes.
A polished girl.
A perfect girl.
I looked into the mirror.
I looked like that girl.
The girl I want to be.
But I didn't look like myself.
Not at all.
YOU ARE READING
letters for bunny.
PoetryBorn to be the other woman. But one day, she opened her book. She started writing. Writing letters to that girl. That girl, her man loves. That girl who wears the ring that is supposed to be on her finger. The girl that shouldn't be betrayed either...
