This isn't a love story

...
But when I reached up to grab the hand that always helped me
I had a fist full of ash staining my palms and eyes full of smoke
I watched the last bits of you burn away through bleeding eyes
wishing I didn't take you for granted
You were the light sent by a divine force to make my blind self see again
You were the hand that pulled away the curtain revealing a beautiful collage of painted colors underneath
 
...
You opened me up and read the deepest parts of my soul like a book  
You studied the words between my sentences and discovered hidden notes
You accepted everything I was from the beginning to the very end
And only ever inquired upon the one aspect of my life that did not need to be questioned,
My reasons for loving you..