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Saving Grace

by Megan Lane

The inescapable pain I descried within his eyes was unmistakable,

He unveiled his despondency as he glanced at me,

And only me.

To deem it as transparent would be erroneous,

A farce,

As he shields his face with a facade for mankind,

With the exception of when he is in my presence.

He is rife with melancholy,

Yet his heart is towering;

Ripe with love.

It plagues me to witness the man I adore

unknowingly shed glimmer from his eyes,

Like snowflakes in the dead of winter,

Drifting down from the heavens.

His eyes parade the persecution of his youthful years,

I can see him, I see him.


And only me.

Oh, the agony,

The torture,

And sorrow he was bound to bear.

I longed to free him,

To liberate him from all the anguish.

I gifted him my heart in its entirety,

Praying my devotion would guide him toward contentment.

Would anyone’s affection heal his dated wounds?

No. Mine,

And only mine.

Hands clasped,

Nuzzled closed,

We embrace the warmth and safety,

Like a newborn swaddled tightly in a blanket.

Pioneering our sanctuary,

Oxytocin floods us like a storm.

What a rush!

Like a drug,

Like heroin.

I peer up to observe the sparkle replenish in his eyes,

My lips curve,

Composing a smile.

He murmurs, “I love you, mi amor,”

These words reserved for me,

And only me.

Megan Lane primarily writes about mental health, cannabis, and relationships. In her spare time, she enjoys practicing yoga and spending time with her beloved fiancé. Her work has been featured on various websites, including HuffPost, Al Jazeera, and Insider.

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