He was the love of her life, chaste, pure.
he was the light in her eyes, brought color to her dark skies.
She admired the way he made her rise from the ashes over and over again.He was her muse, the soul in within she found reason to live.
While some praised how he raised her spirits, some whispered about how she was only a mere puppet on a string for him.
She chose to not believe the whispers, and saw nothing but good in him.
Days passed, words left unspoken. Their relationship was hanging by a thread, and she worked her fingers to the bone to save it while he was finding ways to let go.
And when he left her finally, she let him take the part of her that took the longest to mend. She said, 'take my heart,take it and break it. It can't hurt again.' her strings cut, she fell deep in to misery.
She mourned his absence for days, and she wondered how a human being could give you the illusion that they love you and then leave you to be just strangers. She couldn't fathom how he raised her so high only to push her down,and let her drown in a sea of sadness.
-things that she wishes she could change
YOU ARE READING
Raconteur
PoesíaThere are numerous ways to let another person in to your mind. A neurosurgeon could- via surgery, or a person could read through another's writing. I prefer the latter. This book consists of bits and pieces of what goes around in my mind. Hopefully...
