Om Lawe
Cold.
The first thing that comes to mind when I think of her.
Why you running from me?
The first question comes to mind each time she turns her back on me.
Rigid and cool to the touch, her heart had ice around it. She'd put it in the deepest, darkest hole and dared anyone to try and fetch it. A man that appreciates a challenge took this one on head first. And, with little bruising, I retrieved it. The red, barely recognizable organ was lifeless. Day by day, I nurtured it, nurtured her, and eventually, it began to beat again. Not just for anyone, but for me. Its revival was life's greatest reward. The victory didn't last very long. My lack of experience with handling something so precious led me to make rookie mistakes, ones that cost me her heart and mine, too.
Different.
That's what I believe him to be.
Who sent you after my heart?
It's the question that plagued me each time he set out on my path.
His pockets were stuffed and his accounts were limitless, affording him luxuries that not everyone had when it came to me. He didn't flinch at the notion that he had to pay to play. It enticed him. That was my type. He was my type. But, he knew no boundaries. His quest commenced the second our eyes met, my body hypnotizing him and everyone else in the room around us. Sadly, they were a blur. All I saw was him. Tenacity was his specialty. He was as confident as he was persistent, tireless in his efforts to retrieve the one part of me that I'd buried for safekeeping. And, once he had it in his grasp, like every other man I'd shamefully given it to, he crushed it.
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