The Unbiased Altar.

The Church bells chimed,

As one entered in black while the other entered in white,

Both of their husbands waiting at the altar.



Fingerprints of My Soul.

That spark in your eyes when I’d do something cute,

That lopsided smile when I’d make out of myself a fool,

That hand on my waist to let me know you’re there,

I could say I miss those, but I don’t,

For it’ll always be etched in my soul.

Rolling My Eyes, Yet Missing a Beat.

I’ve never liked cliches,

Never consciously written one either,

But what can I say of those

That you’ve unwittingly introduced?!

I like them, I hate them,

I hate how I like them,

I’ve fallen for your clichés.

Heck! This sounds like one.

I can’t tell if you’ll stay

And usher those any further,

What I can tell is when you’re gone,

I’ll never go back to disliking those rather.




The Mistook Look

You look at him,

He looks at you,

That sweet gesture is enough for you.

This continues for a few more stations,

Until you’ve gotto bid adieu.

You walk up to the door

And notice with fret,

His eyes never followed your footsteps,

You look back to your seat and realize,

That look was meant for the girl behind.