It was simple at first, and innocent. You came with a heavy heart and a wilted frame, rattled bones and a rattled soul. And no one came when you came; just you, alone, with yourself. Everyday a jagged ragged drag to get by, by any means.
And her, with her quiet pleasures and faint smiles, and her tendency to look away, like she wasn't interested when she was rapt in her daydreams. And with her she brought her careless. She dabbed reckless on her wrists and let everyone take a whiff, of her something sweet and something tangy. She walked around like around was hers to walk on. And when she turned to you, you saw her, luminous. She shimmered brilliant in the day and in the dark.
You took her and you loved her, loved her well and true, and gracefully -- more than you had ever done anything in your life. She made you feel, didn't she? Like there was more to life than the getting-by's and the have-to-do's. She was a necessity, yes; but she was also a luxury one no one else could afford.
Little by little, you lost your grace and you lost your gentle. You started to take, and she let you take her, whole. She leapt into the abyss with you -- into your dreams and your plans, and your world where your ways were higher and infinity was a concept you could grasp. She jumped and she fell, and you didn't catch her because you were too busy falling; you forgot that she fell for you.
When you crashed, finally, you realized that your ways were far from high, and that your world was not one that tolerated dreamers, that infinity was a concept that refused to exist to those who thought it plausible, and that you couldn't live for everything. You became obsessed with your failure. All you did was think, and she laid right by you as you did so. Lying because she hadn't the strength to pick herself up, dust herself off, and show herself out. She loved you too much, too truly.
You who wiped the careless off her lips, smeared the reckless from her wrists, and told her she was all you had when you had other things in mind. And when your thoughts could no longer be contained, you needed to forget. So you left.No grace, not true, nor brave.
And since then she's carved her cheeks out with tear stains and heartache. Sleep.
