• okayckay 193w


    For years, I had believed that my soul was
    borne out of the hands of The Devil.
    He needed someone to play His wicked
    games with and so, I came to life.
    Although I had resigned myself to my fate,
    the thought that I had to endure this ordeal
    all by myself made me feel miserable,
    which was worse than the pain.

    But this was until I met her.
    It didn't take me long to look beyond her
    smile, that had no traces of life, and see her
    for what she was - another tormented soul.
    When the scars that adorned the contours
    of her soul screamed in pain, I found them
    resonating with my own.
    I realized that I had been living
    in denial all the time.
    No, I wasn't lonely.
    No, I wasn't the only one gasping
    for that one breath of relief.
    With the realization, I felt
    lighter, albeit not entirely.
    The pain did not disappear but
    the clouds of misery did.
    For me, that itself was my
    rendezvous with salvation.

    I ran my fingers over her wounds and
    kissed her scars with all the love I
    could muster, a love whose existence
    I was previously oblivious to.
    And when I did, she hugged me and
    graced me with whispers of
    gratitude for rescuing her soul.
    Did I really rescue her soul?
    I don't know.
    All I know is that in doing so,
    I had liberated mine.