In so many unexpected ways
Her quietness gave her
An almost ethereal aura of dignity
He noticed how
She demanded nothing
Of anyone
And yet was content
With her lot in life
He
Who believed he deserved
Everything that life could him
Believed she
Who gave without asking for anything in return
Was perfect for him
And yet,
When he was lost
Even to himself
Within wells of despair
It was her very quietness
That turned against him
For she had not the ways
To reach out to him
Having not the smile
To take away his tears
She cried along with him,
Which bound him to her all the more
But doomed them both
To a lifetime of prozac and its equivalents
If only he had chosen
Someone more effervescent
Who would have taken
Quite a bit of him
In his happy times
And yet
Would have acquired from it
The strengrh to reach out.
Maybe his story
Would have ended differently
If only
He hadn't spurned their vivacity
When he still could
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