life, for her, was a masquerade ball.
her purse was full of colorful masks.
each mask was carefully crafted,
designed to impress everyone else.
she was always watchful
with one hand in her purse
so she could switch masks.

he walked into the ballroom,
slowly approaching her.
she took off her mask,
fumbling in her purse
for a different one.
he caressed her arm
and shook his head.

the breeze tickled her face 
for the first time during the ball.
he quietly gazed into her eyes,
smiled to calm her racing heart,
then pressed his lips to her cheek.
they danced for the rest of the ball,
and her masks were never seen again.

with the others,
a tiny flame burned,
then went out.
she felt cold ashes,
which choked her spirit.

with him, and only him,
a flame consumed her,
and it continues to burn.
she feels a warm glow,
which frees her spirit.

he peeled off the bandages on his heart,
and for the first time, I saw the cuts.
some shallow, some deep.
he told me the story of each cut,
running his hands over the wounds,
wincing at the sharp pain.
my eyes filled with tears -
seeing the person I love in pain
made my own heart ache.
yet I remained quiet, listened,
gave him space to share his story,
and let him know that I understood.
he trusts me, and I refuse to cut his heart.
I love him, and I'll never put him through that.

the sun bids a farewell to the earth,
then waves at the moon
because it's her cue.
she always comes  
at the perfect time,
and she helps the night
whisper hello to the world.

my heart spills its feelings
similar to how blood flows.
my cheeks turn scarlet
as my eyes take him in.
the hue of my thoughts
is the color of love.

slash their words by
demanding obedience.
burn them by
shaming their dreams.
cut them to the core
by belittling their feelings -
say their feelings don't matter
as much as yours.
the result?
doubts bring them
to their knees,
constantly questioning
others and their motives.
they wonder if they're
too much and not enough,
if their feelings are valid.
their wounds scare them
into submission.
authority is not an excuse
for abuse.
nothing is.

neither.
her body froze over,
attempting to protect her.
it became a block of ice,
waiting for him to leave.
when he did,
she slowly, carefully
chipped at the ice.
some parts of her
are still frozen,
but she's walking
towards the sun.