Your words were deceiving, your acts were convincing.
You made me your fool.

I may act like you're the only man I've known, but my eyes were not blurred too much not to see and realize how dumb you made me.

I might be irrational and impulsive because of my unripeness and immaturity, but I think and I contemplate.

You're nothing but a photo, which gets shabby and used, vignetted and scratched. When you became one, I will burn you with my illuminated scented-candle at my wedding night. And throw the burnt pieces out the sea, let it bring away by the waves while I kiss the person who made me realized how worthy I am of so much more than you.

I will promise that now, all is over.

No more poems for you.
No more writings and revisions.
No more will be all about you.

No thanks for the memories.
No thanks for the joy and company.
No thanks if its all about you.

















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