You were the last thing I unexpected. - sweet... wholesome... intelligent... innocent.
You wanted nothing more to help me out with whatever I needed, putting my well-being above your own. You checked in on me when I was sick, even offering to bring me homemade soup. You constantly surprised me, whether it was a bouquet of daisies or a hug from behind. As far as you were concerned, I was yours to care for.
I had never been loved like that.
I thought I was damaged. My heart had been cracked and blackened during my countless attempts to fix the brokenness of past affairs. The last thing I wanted was to cover you in my filth, but you here you come, cloth in hand, to you gently wipe away some of my stains.
You gave me peace, allowing a chance to forget my worries. You granted me hope, declaring my future as bright from your perspective. You brought me comfort, kissing my fears away with your gentle touch.
As I sought out the safety of your light, you craved the taste of danger that only the darkness could provide. In the end, we both got what we wanted... even if it didn't last.
YOU ARE READING
What I Once Called Love: The Drafts
PoetryThis is my story, or rather a compilation of stories that spans more than a decade. Each piece is written from a place of truth with the exception of the names mentioned. The book itself will broken into sections, with each representing a different...
