I have been his target practice
For quite some time now

He has shot his love arrow
At me thrice to this day

He has witnessed me get lost
In the eyes of another
Seen the hidden gestures of love
Under tables, in abandoned places

He has smiled and smirked at me
Gush and blush over the wonderful beings
He aimed at just for me

And then he would do it

When he sees I have finally
Reached the point of no return
When my heart has invested more than I can offer

He does it

He pulls the arrow right out of the back of my partner
And somehow always forget to remove mine

So  here I am
Still stuck with three arrows

Three arrows
I cannot take away

Many have treated me like
I am one of the ideal girls
People pertain to in comments such as
"I feel invisible when she is around" or
"The girl who has it all — from boys to body"

Society constantly presents those different from
Me to be the image of insecurity

Those very much bigger than me
Those whose arms sag more than mine
Those whose faces are not structured like mine

And at this point
Many, if not everyone
Would think I am being
Heartless & cruel
Describing these women
Who are different from me

As if it is only their right
To feel insecure
As if it is my responsibility
To feel good about myself

To look at the mirror
And see a flat stomach
A nice 27-inch waistline
And feel content

As if I have no right
To complain
To complain about all bones
No *****

No right to complain about eating so much
For the sake of at least looking healthy

They make my figure look like the ideal
I do not want to be the ideal

I should not be the ideal.

If the hands of time could stop
I would tell them to
For in a few years
Our lives will no longer be the same

If the hands of time could stop
I would tell them to
For you will be off to follow your dreams
And I to follow mine

No longer will you annoy me
With your laugh and bother
Me with your beautiful concern

No more sighs at my corny jokes
Or death stares at my weight comments

If the hands of time could stop
I would tell them to
For I will not always see one of
The most wonderful people on the planet

If I could
I would
But I cannot

Time will let me witness you blossom
During the Springtime of your life
I will watch you turn your dreams
Into an unbelievable reality

I will see you love
I will see you learn
I will see you grow

It is now that I realize I am grateful
That the hands of time cannot stop

I will not write about you.
I will not write about how you send me to
Places I have not been to in quite a while
With words that revive the comatosed
Butterflies in my stomach

Nor will I write about how your hand behind
My back sends goosebumps to my heart
Up and down like strumming guitar strings
A song I would not want to end

I will not write about how you caress my thigh
Making me wish the hands of time would stop
For a moment, so that yours would still be on me

How your chin is like a puzzle piece
That finds its way perfectly upon my
Shoulder as we ride up the escalator

I will not mention how many times I have wished it
Was not "you and me", but "us"

No, I will not write about all of that.
I will not write about you.
I will never write about you.