Because of you

I think of the times we would sit by the beach and talk.
I think of the times we would hold one another close.
The shared passion and endless smiles. The joy and love that felt like home. You were a person I never thought I'd find. You were the love of my life and I was done. I was done searching, I was so happy, so content. I felt like the luckiest girl to have the best love of all. But it was all a mirage, a dark twisted lie. You gave your love away like lollipops. You treated my love like  a replaceable battery. I miss you, admittedly and I don't know why. I still can't believe how deeply you've wounded me. How deeply your betrayal has affected me. Because of you I'm afraid to let anyone in. Because of you, I'm afraid to share my thoughts and feelings. Because of you, I no longer trust myself.

You taste like peace with a hint of devastation.
You sound like innocence on top of your cruelty.
The kindness is a façade while the devil dwells within-
Roaming your halls like an old friend who feels welcomed.
Tearing down whatever walls of goodness are left,
Ensuring your body and soul are encased in a hell of its own.
A hell where destruction is all you know, while you smile radiantly,
Speak with your silk tongue and soothing voice,
Until it's too late to finally meet the devil behind the mask.

I see the couple sitting there,
In silence-
They only speak up when yelling.
Yet, they hold hands and spend bounds of time with one another.
Is that what love is,
Or do you whisper sweet nothings to one another before you close your eyes.
Do you ever tell one another how much you adore one another,
Or is it simply that the nightly embrace is comfort enough to reassure a love long lost?

The cool wind effortlessly moves about with whimsical delicacy.
Forcing the cascading leaves to dance through the air with beauty and grace.
The cool wind turns frigid,
Turning the cool breezes into sensations of frozen knives.
The dancing leaves no longer whimsical
Rather,
Panicked and fleeing from the inevitable seasons turn.
A once calm, vibrant, colorful forest,
Temporarily turned, dark, hallow, and harsh
Undoubtedly awaiting the next seasons turn.

A writers mind is like a black hole.
Dark,
Twisted,
Gruesome,
Swirling with chaos and doubt,
We fight for our daily lives-
But corner it for our art.
It's filled with emotion, pain, and thoughts others won't dare express.
Every indiscretion tackles the mind,
Haunts and hides in the deepest crevices of our brains-
Waiting and lingering to sneak up on us
To inspire us or destroy us,
Threatening that black hole to swallow us whole.