He

He was a beautiful mistake.

He was Roman god carved

In human skin.


His lush hair,

So thick,

Grasped between my desperate fingers.


His spring leaf eyes,

Holding mine

The way a mother holds her newborn.


His tattered copy of Alice in Wonderland.

Prophetic of how

I would feel when it was all

Done.


His hands.

Strong.

Big.

Yet gentle,

As a hatchling.


His skin,

God, his skin,

Smooth and toned,

An olive brown,

Silky under my touch,

Strong under his effort.


His voice.

Deep, melodic,

And yet empty.

His voice.

The reason I left.


He wanted me to be his savior.


I wish I could've shown him

That the only one who can save you

Is

Yourself.


But

I

hadn't

learned

that

myself.


He broke.

I wept.

We yearned.


But he chose

White candy

Over me.


I offered space.


He chose seperation.


He chose.


I chose.


Loss.


He.