Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Some people have good days sprinkled with a few bad eggs
For her she had bad days brightened up by a lucky few days

Her life began in sunshine
Brightened by his presence
By his love
But as time went on
Things became routine
And they both became too comfortable in their lives

His love came automatically
He no longer provided the gestures of courtship
He had already won the prize
Why would he continue to fight for what he already owned?

From that day on
She began to wither
And the beauty marred by the thorns were all he could see
He couldn’t see that it was he
Draining her life from her
He couldn’t see that her eyes were empty and dead
He couldn’t see that she had become a husk of her former self

He could no longer bring himself to love her anymore
He began to blame her for his misfortunes
And so she continued to die
To wish for an end as swift as the rose plucked
For she could not help but think about what she’d become
For who could love a beast?

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