She told me that her dreams were dust.
And her heart was tarnished.

I just smiled and assured her she was wrong.

There are scars..all over her.
Some are self-inflicted. Some aren't.

Life is bitter and the world has swallowed her.
She's drowning in her own soul.

She doesn't know how to swim.

She's in a coma. Life has no meaning.

If it has one, she hasn't found it.

I'm standing on the brink, too afraid to jump in and save her.

I'm trying..really I am. I could try harder.

Swallow hard, take a deep breath, plunge into the shark infested waters.

I swim hard and fast, against the current and into the whirlpool.

I grasp her hand and she holds tight. I smile at her and she tries to smile back.

Good enough. We'll make it.

Her soul is deep and swirling. Blackened and rusted.

I try to polish it, but the only result is a blistered hand and charcoal fingerprints.

She's tried for so long her hands are permanently ebony.

I will not stop trying to polish it, ever.

I promised I would never stop and I don't go back on my promises.

Her dreams are haunting and sleep is never peaceful.

She shakes all over and tries to forget her past.

The world has soured her vision of love.

Betrayed by familiarity and treasoned by life.

I will never stop polishing, not until she shines like the gold I know is deep down.

Somewhere, and we'll find it together. One shiny spot at a time.