The twenty-four hours I spent with you
tasted like forever wrapped in sugar,
so sweet, so fleeting,
so cruelly kind.
You fed me dreams dipped in honey,
and I, blinded by the warmth,
craved more of what was never mine to begin with.
You knew.
You knew the truth would shatter the illusion,
that I would walk away rather than share what was never meant to be divided.
And you were right,
I never covet what isn't mine.
I never cling to borrowed hearts.
But perhaps that's where the cruelty lies,
not in your silence,
but in my innocence,
for I became the other person in your relationship without knowing,
the shadow cast by a love already spoken for.
I prayed for something sacred,
something soft enough to heal the cracks in me,
something that would last beyond time,
beyond deceit,
a love sweeter than honey,
one that would not rot in my mouth with the taste of guilt.
Yet all I got was a day,
a day so intoxicating
it turned into a curse I dare not whisper of again.
Now, I let go of that forbidden sweetness.
I let it fade like dawn surrendering to day,
because what is not mine will never stay,
and what is meant for me
will not come dressed in secrecy.
So I'll starve my heart of illusions
until it hungers for something pure,
something honest,
something that will be wholly mine.