A stolen contingency more precious than gold,
A stolen shirt to keep out the cold
Time we stole, the months not ours
Me and you and all the countless hours.
A morsel of the red of you,
Because that's all I thought I was meant
And when inner talkings turned to screams for more roses instead of rust
I broke my mirror because it showed me what I lacked,
Turning all my hope for you to dust,
And a morsel of me you'll say is all you took
And the rest I gave you, all my words in books,
And that may be laced with your candour
But I didn't feel like giving you, it felt like part of my nature
Yet so is me walking on broken glass whenever my heart decides to beat for another.

Just a stolen day from the chapter in your story where I wasnt supposed to be was all it took
Stolen but none of us knew to look
Stolen but the theft was innocent
Stolen but the good hours were more than golden.


Was it worth it they ask
Was it worth it I ponder
And until the end of me days
My pondering will just get longer and longer

~ A stolen contingency one which I still hold.
© Dantewrites