I remember her. That beautiful girl with dark hair, luminous eyes, and an angelic smile that could have made any broken man smile. She brightened my days. Now, I no longer know her.
I remember her carefree spirit, her joy of living. She walked as if dancing, spoke while laughing, loved deeply, loved sincerely. Her naivety was captivating; there was nothing to criticize—she was an angel.
I remember that she trusted me, even talking to me about her rotten, lonely, and desolate childhood, despite coming from a loving family. She believed. She believed in everything; there was nothing to criticize because she was so wonderful.
But now, I no longer recognize her. I furrow my brow when I see her. She still has her beautiful hair, but it's dull. She still has her beautiful eyes, but they are empty. Her smile is still attractive, but without warmth.
I watch her dance as always, as I so love to do, but now, I no longer smile. My heart is just broken.
She dances for joy, but her steps are only filled with pain. I can no longer look at her; she is no longer herself. She no longer brings out that joy deep within me, but instead, she makes me sad; she makes me hate. I hate, I don't know who, but I know why.
I hate the person who emptied her like this. I hate her because she took everything. I loved her because she helped me, she brought out the good in me, but now her soul is much darker than mine. She's gone.
I no longer recognize her; she no longer exists. She has become a stranger
YOU ARE READING
The Ghost We Left Behind
PoesíaIn a world where shadows intertwine with memories, my past has cast a heavy pall over my heart, now securely locked away in an unyielding chest. I wander aimlessly, searching for something elusive-an unrecognizable figure or a flicker of hope-but t...
