My Fallen Angel Boy

He was born beautiful and in between us stood initially iniquities of his own past.

Whether it was holding him he felt nothing.

Whether it was loving him; he felt he had to give.

Loving him through his chains; his boundaries; his flaws.

He could never get over his past.

Believing all women to be sexually explicit and indispensable; he let himself love me.

And I couldn’t find the chance to tell him how much I loved him.

I loved him so much but he….

He was broken but beautiful.

He was trashed in his past. Disposed of by his own family name but so strong and carelessly, lovingly beautiful.

He had an angel face and the masculine body of a real man.

He was stripped of his pride and the promises of new life lay broken.

His heart a never-ending mess.

I wanted to hold his inner-child.

To cradle his innocence unknown to everyone else who had broken him.

To fight for his honor.

To love him.

Although; I knew he could never love me back.