I don’t consider myself to be the prettiest girl, there’s many flaws sparkling from my diamond pink flames. Like how I don’t react quick enough to help those who fall, can’t take criticism nor pay for the round of beers back. Sometimes I believe I’m cursed with plain beauty, plenty to attract the wolves dressed as sheep to come, but never the one I want.

That one won’t stop writing me poetry from inside of the gym, he’s in the shower texting “I’m about to sin.” So I shut off my phone, the inkling of what might had come next makes me nauseous. When in our last conversation did I give you permission to haunt me from miles and miles away? I debate whether to keep that picture of us, felt good to show you off.

Dirty old man in his almost forties, needs the pill to reach for glory. Thinks he’s so cool kissing me in the lobby, as treats me as if I was his Barbie. And if you ask me now, I’d rather kiss a cow cause at least they don’t hide their horns. Tell me, how’s your wife doing after finding her husband kissing someone else’s glabellae?

That one is named little Tommy, he’s such a nice guy from the outside. He likes sending me funny pictures relating to his life as a cooperate slave. He sends this to every girl at his office and mine, he sets the bait waiting to trap the prey who’s up for a one night. But the bunnies are smarter and faster than the boy who’s a walking disaster.

Little man in his late twenties who almost got married. How can you do this to her? And then another? And another? Where the fuck do you get the nerve? Don’t you dare speak to my friends, nor write an apology to make amends. I’ll step on your white horse dry, you’re suffocating that animal just like you did with your almost bride.

Oh, and him. Who the fuck does he think he is? Putting your hand on my thigh as if I gave you permission. What did he expect would happen next? I was waiting anxiously, he left me so perplexed. Should’ve screamed, «Get off my car!» He had too many drinks at the bar. Ruining what friendship we had, you really lived up to your legacy, Chad.

Grown ass man in his late thirties, won’t stopped hitting on girls past his league. Your friends are a bunch of bullies, and when they’re drinking they become too erratic. Should have said no to the first dance, ‘cuz there was another man who’s been waiting for me in these past-two years.

Yet I direct my gaze to the other one who I can’t bother to learn his name. Danced with him only to make my ex jealous, no I wasn’t interested to reclaim prizes I don’t need nor desire. However, it was fun to set that fire while dancing with the liars.

Grown man in his thirties, has a kid who he loves dearly. He seems like such an amazing guy, wonder what happened between him and his wife. Will not risk my sanity to live out his wildest fantasies. No amount of small talk can make me fall in love.

Can’t they see that I’m not twenty-three? Back when I was immature, in love with a boy who enjoy to stung. Did he adore my attention? How did his friend take advantage when he loved me not? Delusional me, and then there was you who was annoyed by my naivety.

They say I’m a flirt, I say I’m nice girl. Toxic positivity drips from my open veins with every cut they pierce through my skin. They try to be my friend, but my friends don’t hold my hand like you did. I am almost convinced to join a convent where God can provide me with jasmines. Half a virgin, God won’t accept me. Not after reading my mind as I learn this one’s cute quirks, laugh at his sarcastic jokes and dance next to him to every eighties song, while fooling around like a nineties baby who does no wrong.

Grown gentleman in his late thirties, who always admired those pretty blondies. Wonder if he thinks I’m pretty, like that one unicorn from his childhood’s movies. They say he’s got a crush, but won’t confess. Maybe he brushes me off as I am way too young, but I need him to understand: there’s a woman in me ready to take this chance.

In the rain I would share my umbrella with him, and if I had the courage I’d tell him the moon is very beautiful tonight against his autumn skin. If I wasn’t as shy, I’d slip him a note asking if he’d be mine. Now we’re too close to disclose our case to the judge, they’ll hold it against us with a grudge. They’ll remind you that I am leaving, and that you’re too old to be dreaming of the girl who’s been grieving. I don’t have a license to be a lawyer, but for you I’d drown deep in the water, suffocate ‘til I gain back my posture.

Forget everything I just manifested, I rather we go back to pretend we’re not interested.