Have you heard of her? One with the forest green eyes with subtle deep blue colour within; one whose blind and oblivious, but whose vision and grasp of fantasy so clear?
She ran away to the world only exists in her mind. An endless loop of sadness and misery, and rains of tears and shards of broken hearts.
She only wanted to help the incapable. She was attracted to the damaged ones, hoping she could fix with her average human hands- no magic wands, no enchanting spells- just a pair of fragile hands.
She knew the consequences. If you fix, if you heal, you would be hurt somehow or another. You'd have the traces of glue on your skin. You'd bleed from the cuts caused by broken hearts. You'd bruise from the burdens fell upon you. But she didn't mind. She was broken once, and now her goal was to fix the broken ones.
But in the end,
She had gone insane.
She did mend,
But what did she gain?
She became a portrait representing madness, and an inspiration at the same time. She was the broken, the healer, and the insane.
She was you.
And she was me.
---
[07/03/17]
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Lone Heart | ✔
PoetryIt's you. It's always you. But it never should have been. --- [A collection of thoughts I thought were good when I first thought of them.] [12/07/18 rank - #480/528 in prose] [17/07/18 rank - #203/556 in prose]
