See, the cracks in my heart have been sown back together so many times I cannot remember, though every single stitch was caused by you. I'm at the point of no return. It seems like I was correct. The proof is written on her pretty face and by now I know I'm just an anomaly in your thoughts. The average has been calculated and I wonder how many years running its been her who's won the contest. Though, the race to your heart has already finished and the winner is known, I cannot help thinking of the 'what ifs' or the 'maybes.' What could we of been? I understand that my brown hair doesn't compare to her blonde and that my size ten doesn't compare to her six. But my pills are running out and I'm starting to see the bottom, I cannot think of anything but the taste of your lips on mine.
Everyone has to say goodbye at one point, we always forget about the anomaly.
I tell myself this as I empty the remaining pills from the worn packet, taking more than double of the maximum amount allowed.
I tell myself this once again as I feel the wind making nots in my hair and feel the rain form a mixture with my tears as I stand at the edge of the bridge.
And lastly, I tell myself this as I'm falling. I didn't match your result.
I am the anomaly.
