Loved
She dared not fathom the word, I said, “Why abhor it?”,
Those jaws spewed those five letters very swiftly,
I felt sorry. She never ingested what it meant to be loved.
Her heart was astray from the tempo as it turned to pain,
She turned to me with disgust as it consumed Her frame,
My eyes can now finally see that She was never loved.
I filled Her ears with solace to ease Her shattered soul,
She conceived clear drops that resemble discomfort,
I was fooled into thinking She was always loved.
I held sorrow and told it to expose itself toward me,
It painted the blues and blacks that consumed the atmosphere,
This is how it portrayed the idea of being “loved”.
I held Her, comforted Her, kissed Her with tranquility,
Her arms unlocked and summoned peace for healing,
She said, “I didn’t know this is what it meant to feel loved.”
Momo Lewis
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