Walking around the avenue, she wonders:
What did I do? Where did it go wrong?
Did I smile too much? Did I talk too much? Did I expect too much from him? Didn't I give enough of myself?
Should I shut up, be indifferent, be different, not be me anymore, a perfect sketch of a woman?
How many lines can I write before he gets bored and starts ignoring me?
How much more until he gives me crumbs of what I actually deserve?
How much more
until i respect me
as a
woman
again?
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