you were special,
truly beautiful you were.
your eyes conveyed countless stories,
and gave a glimpse of how you cared.
they might not have been a shade of sky blue,
or gleamed like the waves of the sea.
yet your love seemed just as deep if not more,
as i soared up and felt the cool breeze.
your skin was a canvas carefully painted,
by the gentle palette of dawn.
your laughter echoed like a melody,
towards your mere presence, i was drawn.
you were a living sonnet,
a poetic ode to beauty and being kind.
deep thoughts crafted at 2 am
penned down, for you were always on my mind.

until i realised soon enough,
your eyes are only mere specks of brown,
as shallow as a mud puddle,
yet deep enough to make me drown.
your skin, so rough as with every touch,
it invades my heart and rips it apart.
my soft sobs now echo like a gentle melody,
thought you were more worthy than forgotten art.
you are mere words penned down on a paper,
a cacophony of noise in the silent night.
frantic thoughts not letting you sleep at 2 am
for it was never quite love, rather a fight.
you were never truly special,
it was only my love that made you.

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