witty-remark's Diaryland Diary

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The social recluses in the basement: we smoked sheesha and discussed politics,philosophy, love. I smoked so much, by night's end, I was a vapor myself. A haze circulating through the party. You passed me through your friends like an artifact.
"Yeah, that's her."
They buzzed by my ears and lips.
"He said it's alright if I asked you out"
I'm not yours anymore, you aren't mine.
You don't belong to me, I simply don't belong.

Your friends fought over me. I saw you stumble towards the scene. I thought you'd step in. Step up. You just stood on my neck: "look what you did" is all you said before stumbling away.

Coward. Spineless. You're a puddle of a boy. Soaking the hem of my dress with your crocodile tears.

I waited for your call. Like always, anticipating you to say what you really meant. But nothing. You meant nothing. Or I meant nothing to you. I want the power back I had. Over you.

But, goodbye ex boyfriend, I'm already onto the next, boy friend.

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12:26 a.m. - Friday, May. 21, 2010

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