You always swore
there was nothing more rare
than a love like ours.
*
But, it wasn’t love
that kept us
from fighting the current.
*
Rarer
than soulmates
was the way we cared
*
about the minutiae
of every moment spent together,
never knowing enough
*
time shared to endure
the loneliness
carved by a void each left.
*
Poets,
we once praised
love for our attachment.
*
Yet, I watched
when love devoured the most
wholesome bonds,
*
leaving only anguish
as a hideous
reminder not to trust.
*
No, the rarest
part of everything,
of us, is inexorable loyalty.
About the Creator
Sam Eliza Green
Wayward soul, who finds belonging in the eerie and bittersweet. Poetry, short stories, and epics. Stay a while if you're struggling to feel understood. There's a place for you here.
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