A New Schnikism: (Poetry Series) Wistful Wondering

There was once a time,

In the story of my life, 

that all I ever wanted

deserved, desired, begged for,

was to feel,

was to become 

the strongest monument of your love,

to know 

without question,

to feel,

without a single moment’s pause

the power,

and the safety,

that comes from an open soul,

that comes from an open mind,

a love 

undying, unflinching, and unwavering,

a love 

that can be relied upon,

a love 

I once believed in.

This true heart 

That echoes throughout my chest 

That never gave up on all of you.

I may have started all this turmoil,

by an errant or arrogant thought,

the mistake was mine 

in believing,

believing in your words 

a little more than I should.

Today I remembered,

those words were not yours,

those words were never written by you,

those words were written by someone else,

those words only tell a small part of our story.

What remains is a story left untold

What remains is a story left to unfold

What remains is a love story to behold. 

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