A Mind Divided Against the Heart

I loved you in a language my reason could not read,
a scripture scrawled in shadows, where belief and doubt would bleed,
for you were warmth and winter in the same unyielding breath,
a promise dressed as forever, whispering softly of death.

My mind, a trembling witness, cried this cannot be the same,
yet my heart, the willing heretic, still worshipped at your name,
and there, between the fracture of what was and what I knew,
lived the cruelest truth of all: I was losing you as you.

You spoke in tender falsehoods, sweet arsenic on the tongue,
each “always” like a dirge half-whispered, half-unsung,
and though the seams were splitting, though the veil was torn apart,
I stitched you into permanence inside my dying heart.

For how could love be hollow when it echoed oh so deep?
How could a soul awaken when it begged itself for sleep?
I held two truths like daggers, both buried in my chest,
that you were never mine…
and yet I loved you best.

Now reason walks beside me, a specter cloaked in gray,
muttering cold reminders that you had slipped away,
but still, in silent madness, my heart defies the end,
insisting you were forever…

though you were never meant to stay.