There was no mercy for the weary.
There were nights I begged for you. Nights where the nightmare of reality stole all my dreams, to the point where hope felt like a luxury brand only affordable by the highest classes of society. I held tight to worn-out blankets wrapped around my shoulders as pain leaked in through the windows; the cold bite of winter informing me that summer was just a passing season.
The worst pain was knowing that God could hear me; that He could see the pain that echoed in my skull every time it hit my pillow. He knew – no, He designed – my want and desire for you with no intention to deliver the promise. He built you the way that you were, knowing I would love you as much as I did… and in His stubborn morality to give mankind free will, He allowed you to love someone else.
He gave you the happiness I had prayed for. He took my hopes and dreams and burnt them as incense, leaving me with nothing but soured memories and unanswered questions.
Suddenly love was a joke, like the Creator had created love just to show me how powerful and beautiful it was… but how a poor, broken soul like mine could never afford it. For me, love was only a window display.
God gave me the ability to love you… but He refused to give you the ability to treasure it.
In the end, I left God just as you had left me,
as if it would teach Him what this pain felt like.
You can find this poem and many others like it in my poetry book, LOVE AND OTHER BROKEN THINGS. Available where books are sold.
