I found myself in love, but did not know how I got there, 

Having never entertained the thought. 

But proximity and the long-knowing, years of closeness, made their impact. 

The way she sashayed and danced with the children, 

The pleasant sent of her lotions, and the smile that lit up her face, 

Making all her lines vanish. 

The lack of pretention and the fact that she did not fuss over nails, 

And when she pulled her hair to one side, sultriness without pretension. 

Vulnerability, at first causing annoyance, spoke to something sweet within, 

Something that needed healing. 

Her embrace, shockwaves. 

What she claimed to care about, had interest in … words, empathy, diet. 

She became beautiful to me, with no thoughts of advantage, 

And I craved seeing her every day, craved to make her feel in body and mind. 

But those who’d had her and pursued her now felt none of that, did not even know her. 

All they saw was a face from the past that was desperate to be wanted, 

And what I had thought was beauty was never real, 

As she chose those who wanted her for nothing more than pretense, 

To capture and, after having conquered her, to abuse, 

As those who had come before.

I wasted my love on illusion, on a fallow heart that saw no real beauty in the world, 

One that wanted the passionless and fraudulent of heart, 

One that only wanted status. 

One without true charity or interest on others, faked for attention. 

And she never proved me wrong. 

And my heart died forever.