Like rose petals strewn upon the floor we were beautiful; messy.
Morning after, decayed and blackened with no slight glow left resounded anywhere.
We danced to the gorgeous strings that seemed to make up the wind around us and I know it wasn’t just my heart that fluttered like nervous birds wings striving to get more, to get further and higher.
Like the beginning the ending wasn’t slow, it wasn’t meticulous and gentle. It was a brush fire, drying and burning and devastating.
I wasn’t just left with a broken heart, I was left crushed and sullen; no pieces missing, just dust in the wake of the storm that left nothing.
I’m still looking for any signs of life.