25 days (s l o w u p l o a d s).

d a y o n e: her misfortuned love.

Her Misfortuned Love.

She hopes that he remembers her,

when he's out there and she's still here.

You see, they always say they will- remember you that is, and it all comes out emptier than promises.

The First days:

Gone for a week- that's what he was.

She'd been texting non-stop- yet the phone in her palms never seems to light up, brightening her moodiest days.

He said he'd been busy,

and that this life comes with sacrifices

and that this is one of them.

That it hurts him more than it hurts her.

But it's just not that easy to believe. To believe that last week they were face to face- palm to palm.

and he held her.

Tight.

Tighter than a mother would hold her child- a woman would hold her pride and a husband would hold his wife; he held her.

His hands caressed her face.

His lips soothed her taste.

and his body molded into hers with grace.

The Middle Days:

The two stood silent,

Facing their misfortuned love, and knew that the glory days were over.

It was now like the silence of an aftermath and the peace after a war.

They'd past the honey moon stage you see,

just without the rings and the vows that one would need.

To love,

To cherish,

and to be as one 'till death do them part.

But it was his dreams that separated the two, death nought did so.

And he soon would be going off in a distance that she could not reach,

Because she gave up all of hers, for his.

The Last Days:

Emptiness.

Like a bottomless pit deep inside a lair of hate.

Of dispere.

Of nostalgia.

For him.

Today marks the day.

The day of them and what was.

Yet now, they are like the sun on a full moon.

Gone.

Without a trace, except through that little box one calls a TV.

Yes it may be, that fame was what ruined thee.

But what is fame without your number one fan?

Nothing.

Nothing but a misfortuned love.

Their misfortuned love.

Her misfortuned love.

-thesafesthaven