You see, there was a girl with the sunset in her eyes,
those precious few moments where golden fire dances across the sky,
before day fades into night.
And you gave that to her
when you told her love was as endless as the ocean,
and that kindness as powerful as the mountains.
You gave that to her when you read bedtime stories with happy endings.
You said there was joy to be found in the world,
that the sun would remain steadfast,
and she believed you.
You could see it in the skip in her step,
in her loud laughter –
in the sunset in her eyes.
And then, you took it away.
You showed her grief and loss and brokenness.
You stole her laughter when you mocked her smile.
You kept her grounded because you were always too afraid to fly.
You said to love with your walls up, because it was safe,
You told her kindness had a price, and joy had a cost.
You told her that the earth spun on an axis of paper bills.
You took the sunsets when you dismissed her dreams
of being a poet, a writer, a musician –
You said her hopes would only be swallowed by the empty chasms of this world.
You didn’t tell her that the empty chasms were people.
You were cruel enough to to give her the whole world, only to steal it from her,
watching the gold fade from her eyes,
bleeding into the night.
And then, you called it love.