Blue Roses (John Egbert x Reader)

5

Why do humans cry?
Why do we feel pain of lost loved ones?
Why do humans love in the first place?
I have a theory,
Humans are imperfect beings, that is something everyone knows.
Since we are imperfect we see things that will hurt us; whether it's drugs, alcohol, or even people themselves and since we are so imperfect we try to achieve "perfection" by loving those things that hurt us.
And then when they're gone we are left to pick up the pieces of our mistakes and nothing will no longer be the same again.
As imperfect beings we love things that will hurt us in the end but in our minds nothing could be more perfect then that thing that slowly kills us faster than time.
____________________________

You breathe to live,
You live to learn to love,
And you learn to love so you can love me someday soon.

- S. J.
~~~~~~~

        There was a time I would go back to if I had the chance. A time where [Name] was still going through school and all of us were uncomplicated. There was no relationship tearing apart everyone's ties to each other. No boundaries to uphold that assent obvious enough. No jealous exes and no limitations in what we could and couldn't do. We were all free and in this moment I was granted that freedom again.

        Wrapped around me like vines to branches of a tree, I found out that she talked in her sleep. In the darkest of nights when the moon is nowhere in sight and the stars are her only witnesses.

        She talks in her sleep and she sobs out your name.

        Her voice is whimpering and broken, sometimes I notice her wake up on the middle of the night to smear away her tears as if they are acid burning her skin. She cries for the person in which she breaks for.

        At night she cries only in her sleep and she dreams of you.

        They are nightmares plaguing her subconscious mind. She dreams of a world with just you, but she's terrorized by the memory of your traitorous act.

        In the blackness of night she clings onto me but I know she sees you behind her eyelids.

        She cries out your name,
        She weeps in her sleep at your scorched image,
        She hangs on to whatever warmth is near her, wishing it were you instead.