I was a mess.

A tangle of what I made of things.

I wish it were just a card game where all was lost.

It's like loosing in bloody fight then being saved by the bell.

Never thought an answer would come for me.

Then I met her.

She left a life of death to come soon.

Just the clothes on her back and blackened eyes.

A half of her life wasted on lies.

No time left for hope to fix this broken life, no return, nothing ahead.

Then, "Sorry Mam, these aisles are getting smaller. I didn't mean to...."

"Your fine. Best thing that's happened all day, one of those days right?"

We both laughed, then she broke down.

I stayed there to hear all the bad things she would tell of the world she left.

Half of my life found half of her life.

But healing is still hell. Waves of pain calm slowly.

Funny thing though, being there, then?

Helping her fix herself, made up for the half I had to let go.

But can emergency love really last?

What makes a love last anyway?

Maybe it's just caring that doesn't leave and love that's allowed to stay.