Sinking

You Still Left

Happiness. It not a word I'm familiar with. Long ago when I was only a child. At the age of ten. That's when it begin. The pain. As time went by it gained. Happiness. Such a bliss. I felt it once when I had my first real kiss. But that ended. Leaving me with another broken fracture to tend with. End this. I no longer feel that bliss. The pit in my stomach. Grew bigger. I was that girl everyone picked on. Just because I was afraid. Of what? Images of what was done. But not by just one. A ton. One by one pierced glass into my already tore heart. So worn. Your hands. They weren't soft. I didn't know what that felt like. Then just like that. It stopped. Like the weight just left. Then we meant. After so long I felt hope. Your cold skin to mine was bliss. Happiness. It fluttered in my stomach for the first time in a long time. Your touch wasn't just lust. It was a start of something new. Refreshing, a blessing.

One day he asked me to write him a poem. I never wrote one that conveyed positive emotions. I wrote one for him yet he left without a care. The only one I wrote a poem for. No one else but him...