I’m sorry.

Sorry that you don’t get to see water’s fall roar from my eyes.

Sorry that this isn’t the love poem you dreamed of since you were a boy

When your imagination ran wild of action figures acting out scenes of your future life.

You are the director.

Creating a production where you and I are the stars that shine in the Hollywood moonlight,

Walking the Red Carpet of love

Holding hands as the cameras flash capturing candids that only exist in memory.

Our photo album,

Lost in a sea,

Of summer’s breeze and fake I love you’s you whispered the nights I fell asleep.

You assured me,

That the truth was the only sweet nothing to leave your lips.

This isn’t a love poem,

Where in between the lines lie lyrics of regret and pain.

You can wish for invisible ink to reveal itself,

There is no I miss you on this page.

No undiscovered fossils of feelings you pray remain

Lay dormant awaiting to activate

Extinction is the name,

Not a game,

Where two more tokens of smiles get you another life

There is no restart button.

Take your finger off dial,

This isn’t a love poem.

This is a PSA, a declaration.

I have found out what it means to be happy again.

I have washed up on the shores of believing that there was someone for me in His master plan.

This is this a guide book,

For every girl that looks up to the sky waiting on a shooting star,

Catching the clock at 11:11 just to make a wish,

Let this be the sign you’ve been waiting on.

A happy ever after does exist.

Girl, it doesn’t take a hair flip,

Or your face being painted with your entire makeup palette,

Or that corny line you came up with to drop a hint,

Or even showing all your rich smooth chocolate skin,

Little do you know,

The person sitting right beside you thinks you’re more beautiful than the sunrise.

This isn’t a love poem.

This is the light at the end of the tunnel.