Picture Imperfect

Love is magic.

Do you concur?

Or until I aptly narrate to you,

A love that became

But never was.

Okay.

First, she came:

Her flaws I accepted,

Her disappointment I endured

Her lies I loved

Madness, right?

Second, she left:

Her flaws left wounds

Her disappointment left insecurities

Her lies left regrets

I still loved her, regardless.