Handwritten | Poetry & Prose

three | 5

Found

I trusted him, once,
And gave him love,
And gave him all, slowly, slowly
And gave him my heart,
And gave him my words, willingly,
And he toyed with I lost,
And gifted me in turn all the lies
He dressed his love.

And he knew i had been blind,
I'd been oblivious, i didnt see him at all,
Until when he left, I realized,
I didnt have anything at all.
And every bit of myself despised
Every part of myself for the downfall,
I had succumbed myself to the dark,
Every night when the demons would call.

And as i would recall that love he gifted,
What he gifted was utterly false.
And so every bit of myself kept pulling myself apart,
To find what i had lost.
My fingers scratched my skin till it ripped open,
And there were small steel-objects close by,
And in the dark, they'd search with full desperation,
And they would find some pieces thereby.
But they had been too black and burnt by love,
The demons would bleach it till it turned pure white.
But it was too much veiled with my sins,
And his given lies.

I willed for aid.
I willed and i prayed
for a remedy,
A rescue from this fall.

And I felt a hand,
And its long, slender fingers
Intertwined with mine,
When I called.

And I looked into the eyes,
Of someone who was as naive as I,
Of someone who was desperate
For the same comfort and love.

Someone worth saving,
Because he kept falling.
And so I promised him
My warmth.

Its hard to describe and find,
The perfect words and phrases
To define the love as beautiful and subtle.

And its too beautiful and subtle,
To be defined, to be quantified,
To be measured, to be called as 'love.'

And I wish he could see my love,
So that there wouldnt be a fear at all,
And would rather see himself and I
Together through every downfall,
And fighting the world alone,
Against all the differences and odds,
And all the demons we may succumb to,
And doubts that question our love.