My Girl.

She was not mine to keep.
They tell me it was for the best.
Besides, is anything really to keep?

Maybe I am meant to cherish the times I held her in my arms.
In those moments it felt as if that was what my arms were made for.

I thought she felt loved. I thought she felt safe.

Didn't s h e?

She returned to the arms of the very man who drove her into mine from the start.

Maybe she expected more from me, I don’t know.
I can live with never finding out why she left.

The one thing I cannot get myself to do,
is find another reason to allow my arms to make another soul feel safe.

I guess there is one thing I get to keep….
…… my arms to myself.