You were an empowered, excellent, vision
of what you’d once wanted. Twenty-six days of solidity,
captured in tattoos, in eyes, and the corner of your memory.
This rush to find something forever yearned for, and yet you were empty handed.
Teased and tousled by dirty minds with eager hands.
Your heart ached with thoughts of convenience.
Unfaithful minds, and thoughtful hearts found
you torn; troubled, tempted, tortured.
One bleak moment cleared, on the tweny-sixth day,
and one was found, alone and lonely. Kissing it better,
holding its hand, you tried to nurse it back to heath.
Your existence unravelled upon it.
Saddened days fell upon us, and we ached for release.
Imprisoned, yet empowered, we strive to rebuild.
We renovate, we construct, until there is no question of our versions,
But rather of our character.