I'd always believed in love.
In fact,
I'd often fantasize about it.
Romanticizing the very concept of it.
Glorifying it in words.
I spent eternities trying to define it.
Write a poem that could manage to somehow equate its beauty.
Oh, how I attempted to decorate love, somehow transform my feelings into the right words,
Express the emotion that threatened to burst out of my heart.
But I couldn't.
I don't think anyone truly can.
But then you came,
You,
With your loud words.
And big thoughts.
And impossible dreams.
You took my perfected ideal of love...
And tainted it.
All the myths I'd dreamed up,
You stomped on them.
You choked my innocent heart
And crushed it with your iron fist for good measure,
In case there was any hope left.
(Now we couldn't let that happen, could we?)
I look back in fond remembrance
In sorrow,
In longing,
At how naïve I had been.
How pure.
Why did you have to go and ruin my silly delusion?
Because I still to this day
grieve its death.
YOU ARE READING
salvation
Puisi"and isn't it terrifying? that in a fraction of a moment you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over."
