She is the ocean
Between two warring islands
Not involved in the conflict, yet
Most of the gunfire hit the water
Belongs to both, yet
Neither shall pick up the white flag
To save the ocean from drowning herself
Polluted and corrupted, yet
The perceived saviours are really just pirates
On little boats, but who dares cross the sea.
Can't you see that she's damaged enough?
Real saviours offer no solution,
Offer no ignorant reaffirmations of
It'll all be fine, because
They know that forcing the sunlight onto the sea
Will only burn her, yet
A slow shed of light shall warm her.
I am the ocean
Between two warring islands.
And my soul is lost at sea.

An angel sent to save my soul
A prominent part that makes me whole
A guiding light that guides me right
Meeting such a dutiful heart; I am delight
Her beautiful face surpass the sight
Her wisdom-rate; I can't describe
She impact in every world
She protects and guides with heavy word
She understands it all; words unspoken
She mends and heals the heart that's broken
She's my messiah that was fore-told to be coming
A saviour to the fallen
What would the world’ve being
Without people like this
HER WORDs BRING RELIEF TO THE HEART
She's the superwoman sent to save my earth
She was a thing every real man in the universe wanted
A thought that saved me from being haunted
By the monster of a lifetime; impaired with loneliness
A gorgeous illusion which gave me some happiness

A true story about a woman I love more than anything in the world.
...
The morning brings fresh waves of pain and truth. An agony burned into her skin as surely as the memory of the blanket which moved away from her small body.

Oh the shame.  The awful pain and knowledge that her once beautiful, determined, hazel eyesnowheld only the cold aftermath of betrayal and corruption.

Memories are a powerful awakening.
The night.  The terror.  The hopes of the future. Dreaming only of the delights of school and friends... then darkness of sleep.

Good dreams.  Good thoughts.  Then half awakened.  The sliding of the sheets.  The removal of outer garments.

She is awake now. Looking into his face.  A face she knows and loves.  But why?  There is a look she has never known before.  An urgent look this 7 year old girl will never understand.

Then hands moving.  Breath seeping like poisonous fumes into her nostrils and mouth. Hands touching.  Groping. Penetrating.

Then a voice.  She opens her eyes and sees a saviour.  Pulling this creature off her.

But too late. Too late. Her body is saved. No longer hurting.  No longer with a burning scent invading her senses.

But her mind is lost. Her beautiful mind full of the potential of innocence.  Stolen away at the hands of a lust filled beast.

A light taken from the world.

I'm all set but still I wander around as if I don't belong, I don't know what it may be but even if my aesthetics draw attention, I could never physically keep it. I don't do much to keep up my appearance because I'm undesirable in any case. I hold the broken in close regard, but I don't love the way I supposed to. I'm attracted to the damaged but it hurts when I can't approach it.
Is there truly a pain and displeasure in loneliness or am I just a wreck, seeking attention in all the wrong directions? I have no love for the clinging desire to be wanted but it aches to be pushed aside. If the computer screen is the only place I feel a spark, why is it that I'm always looking for a ****** presence that may never come in the dark.
I despise picking up shattered pieces from the ground because I know the truth is that the love I seek is not within these dangerous encounters. Maybe the broken are all one magnetic field of which we cannot guarantee any escape and I've been bleeding out so I've been neglected now.  Loneliness is the epitome of damage and I'll never get out.