It hurt me when I stumbled across her. She was like broken glass with shards scattered unceremoniously on the floor. She just laid there and people trampled over her bits, dissolving her into smaller pieces. I almost walked away too, but the chaos was beautiful and I fell a slave to my own curiosity. I remember staring into her brown eyes and all I could see was raw pain. Her mind, broken and cursed with a flame of desperation so heated; you could feel the burn a mile away. Her pale face, an apt reflection of her heart was decorated by hollow eye sockets; like the life had been vacuumed right out of her. I wanted to pick up her pieces. I wanted to put her back together and so I tried.
I really did.
I got bruises and a couple never-healing scars with shards of glass that will be forever lodged deep into my skin. Battle scars I called them, deeming myself a noble warrior in the same light. Oblivious that the more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became or of that my sense of self was walking away with my irrationality or how my world was being slowly devoured by her darkness, all I wanted to do was see her happy. Every time she laughed, flashed a smile or did so little as blush. I thought about how I wanted to make her smile forever.
She was getting better.
Particle by particle, mold by mold, brick by brick, piece by piece, she was eventually put back together, enough to get up and walk away. But she didn’t take me with her. I’ve been stuck here on the floor, where I first found her, wondering if the pieces left on the floor are hers or mine. Slowly withering away like trees in the fall. Darkness cast its ugly shadow on my natural glow and my sanity is slowly leaking through the cracks of my now broken mind. Piece by piece, brick by brick, mold by mold, particle by particle I’m lying here, slowly fading away.
I should probably get the fuck up.