“To the Girl I’ve Never Met Before”


I know you’re tired.

Tired of hearing empty words as if

every wretched day was built from useless scraps

and broken glass dressed as diamonds in the rough.

As if every “beautiful” and “fine” weren’t enough

to compliment what’s on the outside as they often

ignore what’s inside – which I’m sure you cherish more.

And even though I’ve never met you before

I feel like I should tell you a boatload of things

which might capsize and sink if left unsaid.

Yet what I dread is the fact that I might become what you hate the most.

All those men who have looked at you and saw

not you, but a prize they want to claim. As if the aim

is to see who the toughest is by winning your hand, and winning your

heart is just a bonus game. Every man who had held your hips

like a girdle – each finger like iron clasps, tightening till you

can breathe no more. Perhaps it’s just me but don’t you see

that they hurt you more than they give beauty to you. Those men

no different than cheap make-up who promise to make you feel beautiful

without even knowing that you don’t need them at all. Then one day

you’d call your best friend and tell her it’s not working. She’d tell you

maybe you’re using it wrong but she doesn’t know you’re not talking about

the make-up anymore. You are tired of all the presents, all the praises, all the letters

and chocolate boxes and flowers and cute pet names like “Honey”, “Darling”,

“Cupcake”,  “Cutiepie”, “Bae”. They think they make you feel special but you

end up looking like a dog that they own, or someone who got into a car accident.

Everyday must be your birthday because you’d wake up drowned

in a sea of tangible things. Every hug might be filled with malice, every kiss with lust.

Those men who think they must give you everything in the world but

fail to ask you what you want the most. To prove their love they would promise

to lasso the moon for you never knowing that you don’t want the moon.

You want the little stars surrounding it.

Those men who say you complete them

as if you are a puzzle piece never meant to be whole without them. And so they

blurt out every cliche they could think of and spit it on your face.

They think of ways to make you say YES. Just that one word.

As if your heart is tied to that YES and they could pull your heart out the

moment you approve. For them your love is just a word, not a sentence,

not a paragraph, not even a story. What matters is the trophy

they could win after a game of arm wrestle. Those men who promise

to take you to a magical world filled with colors and beauty.

Yet once you agree to follow them, they lead you to a dark, monochromatic

alley and take what their bodies need from you. Then some will leave you,

like a broken mirror that can’t reflect beauty anymore. You keep trying

to piece yourself together but end up more broken than you ever were.

Others might stay. But they will chain you to that colorless alley, forgetting that distant wonderland.

And so your hands crack and form callouses from days spent working just to feed that

bump on your belly. And what really pains you the most is that they told

you to take it out, shouting “That’s not mine!”

Although I’ve never met you before, and maybe I will never do,

let me tell you a boatload of things you already knew.

Even though all of these happened to you – every hug, every kiss, every word,

every promise, no one can make you feel more special than you.

To the girl I’ve never met before, It was a great try.

But let’s start again. Hi my name  is Hope, what’s yours?






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