The Billionaire's Ex-Wife
Love. It was infuriating yet strangely addicting. It swirls in unknown waters, testing its limits before striking. The sensation of its claws digging into your flesh was all it took for it become entranced. And then everything collapsed. Everything began to untangle. Everything slowly crumbled to ground. Everything began to fall apart.
And you found yourself in the centre of it all, your hands cradling your heart as tears trickled down your cheeks, the salty liquid creating a dark patch on your jeans as it hit the soft fabric.
You're vulnerable. You're scared. You're hurt.
But when you finally have the courage, to wipe away an trace of a broken heart. When you finally lift yourself from the dark pit you had created. When you finally patch together the remnants of your shattered soul. When you finally close your eyes. When you forget. When you become invincible.
When you finally heal.
It all comes back. Everything. Like an arrow that had been shot in your back, your eyes widening from the unforeseen attack. That's what happens.
Because love is dirty. Love was the ugly, ever changing shadow that would snarl at you, jeering at your pitiful state. But then it was also the beautiful stroke of the paintbrush, as the brush winded across the canvas, the colours flourishing into life.
Love was a demon, yet also an angel in disguise.
That was love.
COVER BY SAMUELSTORMBRINGER
HIGHEST RANK: #109 on 16.10.2017