You were heaven and hell,

The devil with a pair
of beautiful wings.

Why did I yearn for the
bruises you left me?

I kissed the scars and
prayed for just a second
more of your time.

I needed it;

the agony,

the pain,

the light
I saw in your eyes.

To fix you?(or to fix myself)

I loved to hate you,
but I loved to want you
simultaneously.

A delicate tragedy, 

when will I learn?

Do beauty and pain
go hand in hand?