We Were Lovers

We were lovers,
never fighters,
but we fought,
oh yes, we fought,
about love
and how much love
we really felt.

We were flames,
always burning,
so destructive
in the way we burned,
brighter than stars;
now, I’m ash.

We were happy
with imperfections
and drunk on wishes,
on hopes and dreams
of never-will-be’s,
and content with
average.

We were tragedy,
Romeo and Juliet
without the death,
with all the poison
and double the sorrow
and an ending
all the same.

We were lovers,
the star-crossed kind
that live their brief lives
in brilliance,
and when they die
they leave a trail
of fire
that no one on earth
can put out,
only admire.

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