In time we heal.
This is not to say we will forget about the disparity
which changes us forever,
ignites a flame behind our eyes
never to die; never strong enough to hurt us again.
A cursed paradise, we used to feel we needed it;
always searching for a broken heart to keep, to hold close
To our own shattered one.
But why does one yearn for a pain so undying?
We see the world differently now,
seeing the truth behind seemingly perfect opportunities.
Love
will rip hearts out of their protective bars
and laugh in your face:
a mock of a fairytale.
The day always turns to dusk,
the moon, illuminating a lavender above the tops of our trees:
faint, still crystal-clear.
The cycle of hurt, regret, obsession, hurt
regret, obsession, hurt.
The shadows will not ever fade,
But will rather linger as a breath of remembrance.
The breeze will not ever let up, and yet
in time we’ll heal.