Broken Seashells

Falling in love with him was not my first mistake, but my biggest one.

I mean, I could have easily said, "No" to his sea foam eyes,

But they just sucked me in like a tsunami in the ocean of my heart.

I thought I saw a spark of love in those treacherous waves of his.

 

He was the boy who tought me how to love the darkness while being in the light.

Some days it felt like he put me on top of the highest building as love and adrenaline held me up,

Other days it felt like he was pushing me off, knowing there would be no safe landing.

He was my deceitful demon when I was his sweet soul.

 

I think he knew what he was doing when he ripped out my heart,

Because it was done very carefully. Hiding secrets, spitting out lies,

This was not something you could do right on the spot.

I give him credit for breaking my heart in the most intricate way he could.

 

And I made many mistakes while we were apart. I fell again and again for his sneaky lies,

His sweet lips pulling me in for just one last time.

The way his lips felt melting with mine was something not even God could create,

Becuase that was our love. We made things we know no one could ever recreate.

 

So when months went by without any more words spilling from his tender mouth,

Of course it drove me mad. Was that even a spark I once saw in him?

Or was that just the reflection of his burning words growing into a monstrous flame?

Foolishly, though, our eyes met; I saw passion as he saw pain.

 

He was my first love; the boy who made me think the world was more than what it seemed.

That the world had so much to offer; to me, to him, and to us.

I had dreams of holding his hand once more as we walked across the shore,

Dreams of kissing him until all of the stars burned out of the sky.

 

Now, he is my first heartbreak; the boy who made me see the world as grey.

That the world could never handle our colourful love ever again.

Our love could only be colourless now. No amount of hugs and kisses could bring back that colour.

Nightmares of death didn't seem to hurt as bad as the torment he made me feel.

 

This poem is not dedicated to him, though; not one single bit.

This is for my strength of waking up another day without his freckled smile,

Or his shimmering eyes, or his warm heartbeat against me,

And I no longer knew the sharp pains it once caused me.

 

This is for the colour I am starting to see again,

Even if it's without him by my side.

This is for me. This is for the girl who did not think love could ever exist in her heart.

Broken things can be fixed. Never the way they used to be, but never completely broken.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

GirlinTheMirror '

WOW! I feel liking pulling up on dude frl but 

It's  a nice poem 

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