You’d been told not to love so easily,
To guard your heart;
Don’t seek to appease.

And careful you were, or so you thought,
But you were wooed;
He sought your heart.

These subtle shifts made you gentle,
Softened your edges;
Shed your nettles.

Like a blossom that waits ‘til midsummer
To unfurl its colors;
Open with wonder…

So was the beauty with which you trusted,
Fell into arms,
And slowly melted.

The blue of his eyes was like a placid sea,
Beautifully calm;
Delicately deep.

So into this comfort, you sleepily reclined,
Craned your ear to his whispers;
And loved the word “Mine.”

You could see a gentle hope, a future you dreamed,
Of kisses soft
And silver rings.

But pretty things can be so fragile.
He pushed you away, and
Your tears spilled and shattered.

Your heart was wrenched, wounded, and torn.
Curled in on yourself,
You weathered the storm.

And though these waves their tempest quelled,
The icy spray of sorrow
Still comes in swells.

But take heart, my love; you have not died.
For, this tide of loss
Will soon subside.