Desolate Hopes
She trembled in my presence alone, I questioned my appearance and actions. I turned away, Thinking it might be another letdown. When I looked back for one more look at her, I saw her curled up with dark, empty eyes. I rushed back, embraced her, sensing her need. She gazed up at me and whispered, "I can't go through this again." She was afraid of being loved. How damaged must one be To fear being loved? "She loved him intensely, She gave her everything, She was used, She was discarded, Yet she survived! Then he appeared, Filled her with hope. She trusted him, Gave her all once more, She was used, He left." When I reached her, I was too late— She was already incapable of love. She was still waiting— Waiting for her hopes to return. She rejected everything! To her, love and care are: Merely falsehoods and betrayal; A façade that men adopt— To shatter her, To make her UNLOVABLE. Is she beyond repair?