My essence was pure,
He craved it.
When he saw me, he knew I couldn’t understand his pain,
I looked at him with a shy smile,
He could sense that I never been touched.
He knew pain so I embraced him,
My touch was soft,
Nothing like he was used to.
He wanted to be the first to touch me,
He wanted to be the only one.
I wasn’t his first, but he was mine.
I covered myself,
I was embarrassed because I had to stop when it hurt,
He kissed me to make the pain go away.
Like water, I was shapeless.
I could be anything,
So I let him shape me.
He loved his creation, all that I was.
Time was a luxury,
My turn was always last.
I felt lonely when he touched me,
I never felt enough.
I wanted to please him,
To interest him,
To make him want me,
But I wasn’t enough.
They had history, they had stories.
I became lonely,
It became a cycle.
They were called misunderstandings,
While I was left with no understanding.
I got lost within myself,
I got consumed in his selfish love.
I never knew myself,
So I had nothing to offer.
I never met myself.

Leave a Comment: