You called me Prudish,
Not fun and too reserved
A boring character you labelled me.
You said she was better,
lively and outgoing, cursed me for being
responsible and said I was too serious with life.
You said you preferred her because
she was thin as a blade of grass
and her flexibility was majestic.
You said she was light headed,
where as I was hard headed like a granite stone.
All cause I couldn’t let loose.
I wasn’t being your mother, but your better-half.
Surely that’s what I thought a partner should do
alert the other when they’re facing danger.
Laura, her name you said, lively and fun.
She got stoned with you; I don’t wish the same
but that you could see life with a diff eye.
She spoke your language, in different ways
understood you said, clubbing, drinking
and even agree to the threesomes.
So she became your ride or die.
You forgot not everyone lives a life without a mission
like you did, till it was too late.
Now that she stained your blood and fame with,
stains that cannot be washed and wounds that cannot heal.
So now that you’re here, you now know you’re sorry?
Are you sorry she left? Or sorry you left?
Are you sorry you’re sick or sorry you compared us?
Sorry cannot justify your actions
Neither can it rub off my emotions
I was hurt and I healed
but in the process of letting go I didn’t forget!