Member-only story
Salvaging the Flames of a Passion Left to Become Ashes
Prose Poetry
never did I say the words that were ready to erupt from my throat — an inner volcano set to burst with the streams of everything I kept inside for far too long
never did I allow the cracks to show in the mirror I allowed you to see — all those bits of myself that I ground down to dust just so that I could stand before you as something you might want
never did I bridge the distance between us, each moment a secret fantasy where I took my hand in yours — every single longing instance when I looked at you and saw what I wanted in a future where there was an us
never did I take the time to ask what you wanted, even as you told me between every line that there was only a sense of like on your end — your every secret just a bared-open book where, across the pages, I wouldn’t find my name
never did I find the answers, and soon this grand love affair became just the ruins through which I run my hands now — the ashes piled up, every grain just a piece of what I most wanted from you
never, never, never — my love, we were an ending before we ever had a chance to begin
