It’s not the smell of love that she hugs him no that of his fragrances, it’s the pain of her fears to hustle and make living

No love is on for him to carry just that he is the available option to lay a shoulder on

Nay she likes not her vibes only that he can afford the taste of his meals and drop a few coins to keep her pocket beeping

She ain’t your type not in vain but fact full you failed to weigh your options and feel the much your opinion matters of time tells, and then the time tells you how wasteful you’ve been over years

And if she found a better slice of options not even your shadow can surface in her presence

And thus we labor to please what is to be our scar