Like a thousand widows ululating for their loved ones that have departed; you lit a fire in my heart and then abandoned what you had started. Fainthearted, I attempt to heal my bruised and battered sense of pride, but this is often much too hard when there is no one in whom I can confide. I chanted your name, in the hopes that you would return. I offered you praise, as the vicious fire within continued to slowly burn. I refuse to acknowledge the newly granted freedom that has made me feel so light. I have recanted my belief that you and I were matched perfectly, so right. Love has taken its course on my life that you have left behind. I will reject love in the future, I would much rather douse myself in toxic turpentine. It made my bones feel brittle, and turned my tears to dust. Belittled my emotions, as I could not separate loneliness from trust. Now I must be strong once more, no longer forced to endure your cancerous couture. The disease you kindly referred to as love ravaged my insides as I began to feel so tired of. All that used to bring me joy, the happiest moments you've managed to destroy. Although I try to prevail, my efforts are to no avail. I will wear this blackened veil only as a testament that is apropos. I will restlessly remain as tired and timeless as a widow.
Time stood still for nary a soul, it dragged its feet, aching and old. Blistering heat that made us melt, we were once softer than silk felt. Hallowed hearts wind whistled through, covered in bruises, black and blue. Hardly broken, but maybe bent, running on empty and love spent. There comes a day in all our lives, when our failures cut deep as knives. But you shall remain a triumph, you stayed with me, like a science. Words were whispered, curses, we'd shout, until the blood drained from our mouths. Yesterday—softer than silk felt; seems like all we do these days is yell.
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