Intertwining our love and sharing our seed.
We created magic, and you called me flower child. In a beautiful life, I'm your rib, and you're my heart. Protecting me from all evil, lust, and tainted things. Our unity represents our legacy and is infinity and beyond. In a beautiful life, you held me and were my light in the darkness. My sweetness in bitter times, my richness in a poor surrounding.
In a beautiful life, all I saw was you and me. All I felt was love, and acceptance. In a beautiful life, I was the only, and I was of importance and felt complete. My voids were filled and all the days, never had timing, because all I knew was forever.
In a beautiful life, all was true. There were no lies, nor sickness, because I was always kept, by you.
My serenity in hell. How can that be?
You made it possible, because you were my everything. You blinded me from chaos.
I loved you so, I neglected myself.
Nothing was truly the same, in a beautiful life.
But life isn't so beautiful...
It was all a lie.
You destroyed me.
You betrayed me.
Manipulative and abusive.
Evil and selfish, misleading, you abandoned me.
Gave me your seed, but never watered it.
You never nurtured it. You never birthed it.
You watched it grow, and struggle, and when it bloomed, instead of letting it be, you picked it.
...Killed the life, and kept it captive, barely letting it experience the light, nor grasp for air.
You never let its potential be.
You sat it in your pot of hell, and left it to fight for its own.
Like a raisin in the sun.
I told you!
I told you I wanted a garden of hope.
Filled with love and soil, a good foundation, to keep these roots planted.
You promised.
You swore.
All you had was your word.
I took it.
I took it to heart. I gave you my life.
My breath.
My body. My soul. My mind.
My everything.
And you forgot me.
You used me.
You abused me.
You hurt me.
You destroyed me.
You broke me.
You misused me.
You picked my flower.
You let me die.
It was you.
...and I still can't believe it.
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