All my life is just a series of coincidences, nothing more.
All my men,
All my thoughts,
All my poems, and all my actions.
There are times when I think the Universe mocks me.
When I live,
When I hate,
When I try
To live like others, and it’s always fake.
I’m afraid my relationships with him
Can be a joke,
Or can be fake,
Can be just another coincidence.
Yes, I know, the Universe loves to mock,
But how
Can I love If I know it can be taken from me cruelly?