It was beautiful. He was beautiful. If perfection had a face it would be his. He got me. He knew me. He embraced my deepest secrets and desires. We wanted to share our world together. A world people don't understand. We didn't care it was our world. Our desires.
He made me feel the most beautiful. He made me feel I was his only desire. What we have is special, he told me. No-one else has what he have.
Happiness. God did it feel good. Is this what was being truly happy feels like? To have someone that truly makes you happy? It's a beautiful feeling. Too good to be true.
And it was.... A lie. All of it. He was a lie. He wasn't real. A part of me knew it. But I wanted to be real... Please be real.... don't let this euphoric feeling go away...
It's gone. And I'm left with tears. Drowning in them... back to sadness. Back to darkness.
He was the most beautiful lie. My perfect lie.
Time to lay in my bed of black roses......
YOU ARE READING
Bed of Black Roses
Poetry"In my bed of black roses, I feel no sadness. I feel no pain. There is no more darkness. I feel.....at peace." -Manie Personal thoughts of a dark soul.
