I am a liar, a deceiver. You will come to me, seeking out for healing and I will give you light endearment packed so delightfully you thought I’m a savior.
I will tell you about the falling stars and your broken soul and how they are equally beautiful. I will kiss your scars like a lover and caress them like newly-born babies. I will turn you bulletproof but never give you the gun nor do I put bandages over your wounds. You will give me your tears and I will collect them like diamonds, so you will not be ashamed of them, because who will be ashamed of diamonds?
I will nurture your painful past you thought you finally forget. I will call the east wind to blow away your shredded pieces that’s been hurting you hence the incompleteness in you. I will be hand in hand with the Earl of October to show you a momentarily, short, beauty that is autumn, not to compare with winter or summer. I will be in your arms and gone when you blink.
When you find me again, still torn and all scars and you, asking why does it still hurt?
I will tell you that I didn’t heal you, I gave you how I live.
I am a living nightmare.
