They were opposite in every way imaginable;
How they were raised, how they survived, and how they loved.
But somehow, someway
When their eyes first met and their words first danced;
A change slowly began.
He was a black smudge on a white canvas
The way we saw him,
Too dark and unkind for the world
To see him as human.
He never saw the compassionate yellows of happiness,
That came from a paintbrush dipped in freedom.
He never felt the soft-hearted bright whites of innocence,
That should have come from a caring family’s loving embrace.
We saw him as a hideous beast
That would not change,
That will be an eternal flame
An imperfection on society;
And after locking him up
Hidden away from the world
Then releasing him from damnation,
We were still scared of all the possibilities
of hate still coursing through his veins,
Like a red hot wildfire looking for retribution.
The hideous beast
Had yellows and whites painted over it (him)
We didn't see his happiness
That his little sister gave him
Both sweet and pure.
He has her favorite movies
Lining his bookshelf for when she couldn’t sleep;
And he sits in a chair too small for him
For those tea parties, he wouldn’t dare to miss,
Because it brings a special smile
To the little one’s lips.
That’s all he could ever ask for.
We never stopped to pay attention
To the fact that she
Does not see him as the monster
But, the knight in shining armor,
Always there, ready to save the day.
She was a white light against a pitch black sky
The way we saw her.
Too angelic and sweet for the world
To see her as human.
She never felt the deadly grays of loneliness
That comes from tormenting people.
She never saw the sharp purples of power
That comes rom causing disorder.
We see her as a delicate glass doll
Sweet and pure: no flaws only perfection;
Feeling the need to keep her on display for all to see,
For never wanted her perfection to fade.
We were scared of all the possibilities of a romance,
Not fit for a dancing white flower
Still dripping with sweet raindrops
From the rain that vowed to protect her.
The glass doll
Splattered with purples are grays.
We never saw she was too intoxicated by
The feeling of perfection to stop.
We never saw her loneliness and her hatred,
Not of us but of herself;
Pushing for perfection day and night,
She uses makeup to cover up the fact
She hasn't slept well in months.
And we never stopped to see that
She hates herself more than anything,
Because when she fails
We don't see her as perfection;
she's just another flawed creature.
They were opposite in every way possible
But they surprised everyone.
Although we saw them as completely different,
They are now one and the same.
Together; hand in hand; intertwined.
*to anyone reading: bare with me its
a work in progress*