My eyes made out your form
the adorning garments
the face that crowned it all
the projected artifice
But I never once saw you
My mind processing the sight
filled the shell with fantasy
loaded meaning on your words
Assigned you my co-star
In a rom-com chick-flick
painted you in its own image
But I never really saw you
Remember that one time you thought you were soon leaving for greener pastures?
Remember how happy you were, how carefree?
You were floating way above cloud nine. Nothing got to you, no one could say anything to you.
It wasn't so much where you were going that broadened your smile. GOD knows you were apprehensive, even unexcited about that new prospect.
Just the idea that you were on the brink of leaving gave you a new lease of life. You looked forward to your last day, you fantasized on their surprise when you would tell them. You practised the short statement with which you would deliver the letter of resignation that you had already spent ages wondering exactly how to phrase.
Unhappily, the slightly less disagreeable prospect that was the wellspring of such vibrant hope vanished into limbo, crushing your soul, and you hung your head and moped about in low spirits for days on end like a whelp suddenly orphaned. What got you down was the recognition that the trap you were in was worthy of escape, just as the mirage of an open door dissolved into hot air.
Did you forget how good the mere prospect of leaving for a slightly better trap made you feel?
