Didn’t think the day would come, when I was mindless scrolling through my phone, flashes of your white dress and flower girl left me stunned. My blood began to freeze as hard as a stone. Did I stop breathing? Is my heart still beating?

Memories crashed into my mind, there we are sipping coffee at the hut. Promised you to always be kind even at your annoying boyfriend at the time with that awful uneven clean cut. Adopted as the third-wheel that I was, there seemed to be something off when you cried stating «just because», I noticed the remains of your bluff.

What he did wasn’t right, you knew that from the very start. We thought he was your knight, even worked to make a few bucks for you at Walmart. When he took you out to the park, were you as scared as I was with mine? They say that dogs only bark when threaten by people with obscure darts. We didn’t feel safe this late at night, I checked the clock and it marked past nine.

My boy was similar to yours, forced me to play husband and wife. Pretended to be Beowulf cutting Grendel’s head with my bloody knife. I’ve been crying these past-four years, tried to forget him with too many beers, yet he still finds a way to ignite my fears. Burnt witch, burn, he chants as he prays to God. Damned snitch, damn, did he think heaven forgot?

They raised us with shackles and promised rings, they emphasized that one day we’d hear the wedding bells ring if we were kind to every king. Sacrificial lambs in veils, they feed us to these alpha males, and if we were brave enough we’d send them off to jail. Princesses shouldn’t have to hide, I’d say we’re both well to fight, instead I see you dressed in white. Do you really want to be his wife?

Madrid was suppose to be our destiny, yet I have been label as your worst enemy. You hide in God your hatred towards what we used to be, don’t you exile me from highlighting my sincerity. It’s not that I am not delighted, it’s the matter of keeping the world you shared private. I’m not sad I wasn’t invited, rather I am pissed that you never decided whether I am your friend or a hybrid of your optional blindness.

Traditional wife, he’ll build you a picket fence as you bake his apple pie. Be careful of the hive that claims they sting in God’s name. I guarantee they’ve ashamed my Mother for loving her Son, you’ve mocked my faith for way too long, and I respected you even when you were wrong.

Not sure if I’ll be as lucky as you to find the one, I’ll swing the wand until I hear I better song that’s undergone by the eyes of a nun. I’d admit that you’ve won, but I would never hide the sun with the hands that you once held after this treason. Could you at least give a reason?