You were the main character of every story,
The espresso to my coffee,
The salt to my pepper,
The sundae to the hot weather,
The prince to the princess,
And even as you left,
That’s when I knew,
You’ll always be my muse.
With every inch of sanity that she has left, she pushed and shove the thought of you away. Knowing that you aren’t thinking of her, the way she does or the fact that maybe she doesn’t even cross your mind. Have you ever wondered if she was okay?
No, she has to stop this charade.
She has to choose herself. Like what she keeps telling herself at night, hoping that everytime she’ll say it, she’ll actually get there.