It’s that pretty face kinda thing-
That draws them in.
Makes them conveniently forget.
Yet years later
It’s the first thing they bring up-
How it was i
That crushed them
And took their souls-
Their hearts-
Like I was some kind of demon
That had tricked them into a deal.
How their loss had consumed them
And forced them into a healing
That they couldn’t let go of.
Their possibilities now seemed hopeless
And a lil more gray
Than the life
They had once pictured.
A suffering
Of their own choice
That they’d never forgive themselves for
But continuously fall in love with.