The movies, a sense of perfection.
Only if your life was like a movie,
Random kisses in random places,
Reassurance, happiness, true love.
True love, you wonder if true love is truly real.
Is it a myth or is it just you.

Dark skin, thick thighs, a perfect bum, perky breasts.
Beautiful cat eyes and kissable lips.
You mistake yourself for an angel sometimes,
So hard to walk past a mirror and not look in it to admire your glory.
Holding self in high esteem.
A god maybe. Damn, you take your breath away.

But that's about it, the only breath you take away is yours and maybe your mum's, literally.
The only feet you've swept is your younger brother's, who won't move when you clean.
Am I cursed, you ask under your breath?
I don't need this love thing, you lie to yourself.

The movies.
Yes pain, yes tears, there's always the huge fallout,
But after comes the great reconciliation that keeps you smiling on your screen.
The happily ever after comes last and that's all you see.

In the end, still smiling at the dark screen, casts moving up.
The dark screen, now that's your reality, something to believe. Something to relate to.
Left with the pain of stretching your face.
The pain, something to feel at least.

True love,
Still holding yourself in high esteem,
When the only person high is Tim.
Always high on something,
Your ex who told you you're a needy psychopath.
Hard to believe the junky,
But what if you have those junk inside of you.

A story untold,
Too hard to unfold.
Maybe this is all a joke.
A movie lover, I'll like to own one.© debbieOthompson
#nigerianwriter #poet