The scent of her perfume smells like she owns you now
That even wolves beg to differ the scent of each goes by sniffing and whiffing
The lipstick stain in either your collar or tie serves like a masterpiece I noticed but went on with my life

The hickey marks on your neck suits you— she already made a mark of her own territory.
As if not stolen from another woman.
Did you even work hard for that?
Someone else put in the effort, and it was so easy for you to take it.
You used your flirtation—not your brain—to get it.
Hence, you were no longer mine to keep.

How does it feel now?— was it a kick in a chest? Or was it like your heart got a hole and it was sawed in halves.

I trembled in fear and became anxious of what our married life could be
Somehow, I feel like she was already gatekeeping you
A single strand of her hair made me left questioning my worth
At that moment, I knew you ****** up
You got caught but you have the audacity to deny it

Does your mistress even know how your wife always waits for you to come home
Polish your shoe, iron your clothes, wash them and make it neat and fragrant
Sweep and mops the floor, just to make sure you come home to a tidy household
Only to find out, her scent is all over you
Lingering you, feels like holding you

Despite your infidelity, I still smiled and wiped my tears as if nothing was going on
Sighs, take a deep breath, tomorrow again is another day
That even any alcoholic beverages no longer comforts me

What type of answer would you expect me to give you?— The kind of answer you would like to hear or not.

Why would I give you my name when you are not even interested to know— It was like telling a story you are not ready to hear or an alibi you do not wanna listen to.

Am I playing with words or just playing with my tongue
Because I can be poetic when I want to and when I don't
Some say, we become less of what we are if we give so much more than what we deserve
I could pretend when I care and when I won't.

Forget I said that— what?
I knew how to tick a woman when I want to
Because I can be a suspect and a victim at the same time in the eyes of others
When a victim becomes a suspect— wow, now that is rich, right?

I am letting you see the complexities of my life
I do not know the full story and it is not my story to tell
But I forgot, I am a poet so I need to write one story

You want me to let you know what I am thinking of?— You might not like it when I let you in
Like cable management, mine was tangled
But I am like Nanno, a living karma

I dance for danger, talking to strangers
Calling the shots for a gun or a glass
I kiss skeletons hidden in the closet
But I do not kiss and tell
Rode a motorcycle in full speed.

Hunger and thirst do not end well— It is a recipe for disaster
But I make sure each person cannot see the broad of daylight even you.