Mourning Our Bond

I miss the way we fit like worn-in shoes,

Familiar, soft, yet always bruised.

A sanctuary carved in broken stone,

Your presence felt like home, though never my own.

I miss the hours that melted away,

The words we wove, the games we played.

But comfort came with jagged seams,

A love wrapped tight in shattered dreams.

Your anger roared, your lies took flight,

Yet I stayed, clinging to the light.

A love I knew could never mend,

Still, I miss the way we didn’t pretend.

Now I mourn the bond, not the pain,

The laughter clear, the sorrow plain.

For what we had was comfort’s disguise—

A fleeting truth buried in lies.

~RMC