I asked, “will you still come?”
I sat there, until the church turned cram,
Someone caught me crying, while reading your reply,
Once again, inside his home, I die.
Last night, we made plans and you promised,
I stood from the chair, hold my trembling knees and fists,
Locked myself in the comfort room, and let the water flow in the sink,
The mirror witnessed the tears, I can't even breathe nor think.
“I'll be awake by that time” you said so fine,
“We'll attend your church's first Sunday,at exactly nine”
I desperately hoped that you'll be there,
That's when I realized, you really don't care.
I returned inside, without making a noise,
Like a girl, secretly playing her toys,
You've treated me in the worst way,
Never will I forget that day.
