plan b

second born, awaited with reduced fervour,
knowing eyes confident about what to expect this time around.
second guessing, drifting as far away as the oceans take me,
realising that sadly, the planet is only going around in circles.
second in line, wearing a faded ring on my finger,
trying to erase the mark the first one made,
knowing fully well that it will haunt me forever.
second chances, given with conditions attached,
stressing the fact that we will never be together.

two flights of stairs, and an ocean of shame
is all that separates us.
add to that the countless glances ignored,
the hugs never given, the kisses postponed,
the hands never held in public,
the mocking reminders of who I'm supposed to be.

it is second nature to me, not being the chosen one,
what is strange is seeing you try to deny it.