Tonight I am starting to see that I spend my entire life repeating myself; as if what I have to say isn’t worth listening to the first time, so can I please say that again.
Tonight I realize that the second a man chooses me, I choose to show him the door, just to know if he’ll grab his words and walk out, or bring his baggage inside and turn the lock.
Tonight I realized no one has chosen to turn the lock.
Tonight I want to know what I am doing to turn men into sandcastles.
I want to know how they can mold themselves into palaces around me, and give me a place to feel safe and call home; until the first few drops of rain melt away each barrier.
Tonight I swore the streetlights were connecting their dotted lines to lead me back to you.
I swore that there had to be a reason all the stoplights turned green the second I drove towards them.
I swore that it had to be a sign and not a coincidence.
I swore that there is no such thing as a coincidence, but maybe that’s all anything ever is.
And what a coincidence that I have become such a convenience.