“I can do this, I can do this”
Lying to herself,
She takes another swig of the warm vodka left in her flask.
Locking on her mask of confidence,
She exits the limo.
Sunrays beaming through the cracks of her Chanel glasses, she,
Walks gracefully, while,
Praying for a hurricane
Standing in front of the breathtaking building,
All she can think about is,
“Why the hell is he getting married in a church?”
Memories arise of steamy debates they had in college.
Harmless bickering in deafening bars, about the existence of God
His cocky laugh still resonating in her mind,.
Throwing herself through the heavy, wooden doors,
She contemplates her presence
Every step past the pregnant wives and signing of the guest book,
Her empty hand starts to feel, more,
Exposed and light than ever.
She rolls her eyes with disgust at the chosen blood-stained roses,
She would have had ivory roses.
Her stomach wrenches at every picture
A happy ending she imagined her whole life,
Was being hijacked by a girl with repulsive taste
When the ceremony begins
Her hopeless eyes don’t leave the front
Staring at the boy who promised her forever at 30,
Her heart hurts, realizing,
He was never her back-up plan.
When everybody rises,
She can tell from his eyes,
He isn’t aware of the stained glass windows and the burgundy blossoms, because,
All he can see,
Is her