"I have to leave," he said.
A part of her died.
"But I love you," he tried.
"I hate you," she lied.
"I'm trying to save you!" he cried.

He was hurt.
She was the first.

He held her tight.
She did not fight.

He was so confused.
She felt so misused.

He thought it was the right thing to do.
She felt her heart break right in two.

He cared too much.
She was so prone to hurt and such.

He gave what he called freedom.
She received damnation.

He let her cry on his shoulder.
She leaned on him, the ungiving boulder.

He held her heart and kissed her cheek.
She knew she would not last a week.

He took her hand and led her out of the darkness.
She felt alone and so worthless.

He wanted to tell her the truth.
She felt she had nothing to lose.

He kept to himself.
She hated herself.


"I'm sorry," she tried.
"Me too," he lied.
A part of him died.
"Please save me," she cried.
"I tried," he sighed.