I gave you the power to make me feel like the sun was shining for me and only me, and that the freckles under my eyes were a gift.

It's not fair of you to manifest the opposite effect of what I trusted you to create.

I believed that you would help me understand that the grass helps soften my blows upon the earth. 

That my lungs are made to blow a million wishes and utter 'I love you' a thousand times.

Now, my faith is lost; and the world is trying to ease my suffering.

The river cries for me and the wind whisks flowers in my wake in hope of a forced smile.

The trees bow over me to protect me from further pain.

The ice turns rough at my feet so I will not fall and re break my heart, which is held together by my own two hands.

The world is helping me in a way you outright refused to.

The wind whispers that I am beautiful and worth more than I can understand.

The clouds utter soft words of encouragement as I sit outside and try to remember why I am here.

Nearby waterfalls bellow their condolences at me, clinging to the possibility of me finding happiness in something other than recklessly handing my one and true power off to someone else who will abuse it.