If by any chance that the right time for us will come one of these days, I hope you won't mind seeing me far from the best that I could be.
My man, I'm a mess. I got tired of doing my hair, drawing my eyebrows, maintaining a summer body, hiding my pimples, or even putting lipstick on before going out in public. Maybe at the right time, you'll see me with my untied hand-comb hair, undefined eyebrows, chubby cheeks and belly fats, red bumpy face, pale chapped lips, and it will make you think I am worse than unattractive.
My man, I'm a mess. I got tired of wearing skirts, dresses, and high heels, of being a prim-and-proper, of mingling with pesky, fake girl friends, and of letting people dictate what and who I should be. Maybe at the right time, you'll see me sporting boyfriend jeans, tees and sneakers or even laughing out loud with my all-boys gang, and it will make you think I don't fit in to your expectations of a woman.
My man, I'm a mess. I got tired of listening to people's achievements, ambitions, travels, problems, prejudices, and rants because they don't even want to hear what keeps me awake at midnights. Maybe at the right time, you'll see me reading a book by my favorite authors or you'll hear the Twenty One Pilots on my earphones full blast, and it will make you think I have my own world and I don't let anyone in.
My man, I'm a mess. I got tired of wearing my sweetest smiles to everyone who doesn't really make me happy. I got tired of being soft-spoken when they really deserve rudeness. Maybe at the right time, you'll see me frowning, poker-faced or I may even diss you, and it will make you think I'm impolite with a bomb about to explode.
My man, I'm a mess. I got tired of holding back my tears from falling and telling everyone I am okay. I got tired of concealing my puffy, red eyes with make up and acting as if I had a good night sleep. Maybe at the right time, you'll see me with bloodshot and heavy eyes or even crying at the same time, and it will make you think I am too emotional, vulnerable and fragile to handle.
My man, I got tired of bullshits and of giving a fuck to things which and people who are not entitled to it. I got tired of playing safe when I could be a mess, yet still finds happiness in it. My man, if and when our right time will come one of these days, I might be at my worst self, and so I hope you won't back out and leave me dangling in our story that has not yet even started. I hope you will still look at me like I'm a miracle you've been praying for.
Still a mess,
The Right Woman For You