Someone else

But that was not how love was supposed to grow. Amidst the shards of another shattered love, handed bit by bit to an other, a shared story, collective fragments. Not to meet while such pain still rakes their throat each night, a pain they whisper of to this new one. At least not a healthy love, yet perhaps in the margins of that union, where one still carries the damage of another gone, they could have at least spawned something powerful, primal, if not lasting.