i was in my mother's womb
when i first attended a wedding

the second time, i was a flower girl
but before the reception i tossed
all of the petals on myself like a curtain
so my father had to sneak off
and pluck from the church garden

being different amidst murmuring lips
i passed and white roses on the floor
were joined by orange tulips

the third time, i don't quite remember
except that i tiptoed so hard in years
to witness the bride being kissed
while seeing my mother in wistful tears

recently, it's with my grandma
and i knew no one else
they said "my sister and i" were close
to the bride when we're younger
but they probably just inserted "i"
afterall, i attended in place of her

yet, during the processional
when all faces were unfamiliar:
bridesmaids, groomsmen, ring bearer
and bride with her mystic entrance,
i sobbed like a proud fairy godmother

why was i crying
did i miss being an innocent flower girl
was i envious of the people
blessing the soon happy family
did my eyes thought there'd be no better setting
to cry out all the pain than its unfamiliarity

who knows, maybe it's because
i can't wait for the ending
to grieve more in regret of when
i first attended a wedding