eternally ephemeral [ poetry & prose ]

The Cure

She's the cure I wished
for my aching heart.
Aching, from the numerous
fatals I've experienced
in this world,
of black and white,
somehow surviving,
in the dark gray.

selfish is what I am,
hopelessly hoping,
that she would flourish
my heart, my body, and my soul,
with all the colors
of the paradise
that I saw in her soul.

but by bringing her into my world,
I sucked all the colors out from her soul,
and left her with nothing but nothingness.