Back to the day when I first saw her,
I looked her in the eye, and to myself I said,
“My next mistake you shall be.”
Not because how wrong she will do me,
of that I was fully aware.
But because I fuck things up.
Always did.
And that other day when we last met
As I once did, she looked me in the eye,
“You could’ve been my forever,
the father of the child I would bear.”
Her thought, as always, I had read.
And I knew it again deep inside,
I fucked up as I always did.
