Perhaps

Perhaps my jokes are no longer funny,
Or that I am trying too hard to make you laugh.
Perhaps you think that I am desperate to please.
Or that I walk with my spine in my hand.
I came to a point where I know its futile for me to think of what you think of me.
Because my sighs at night tells me Enough.
To you, I am a string of pasta with no feelings and perhaps thats why you never had feelings.

Thoughts gave sound to words,
which can cut and hurt.
Yet to mention is to be labelled wuss
by that mouth I want to kiss.
This conundrum of course only exist in my mind.
Because in her mind she is always right.