She Who Carried Me

Despite everything, I never hated her.
She was cold and cruel--
(never graceful in the slightest;
when she ran, she thundered,
and many times she has jumped
only to fall back down again).

Even so, I dare say I loved her.
Her black mane brilliantly contrasted
the many callouses and contours I hold,
and despite her grace (or lack thereof),
it wasn't hard to imagine that
when we moved, we were dancing.

Those dances were as unpredictable as she:
Sometimes they were quiet and slow,
while other times they would rush by;
still more times, they would seem to attack
in a sudden flurry of motion;
yet others, no motion in silent grace.

In our short time together, we both stayed;
all but glued to each other, we never wandered,
She was always in my thoughts and in my sight,
and I could easily tell that I never left hers.
Her discomfort was apparent even to me,
but she was still unwaveringly loyal.

But alas! Now she is gone, and I'm alone,
left in my misery to sulk and mourn.
I greatly miss those times with her--
she who is loved by all in her presence.
I hope she does not think ill of me,
for I never intended her discomfort.

I suppose I hope she does not think of me,
for I feel that my days are nearing end.
I almost hope the end shall come soon;
this world and its Hells show no mercy.
I have lived all too long a life
(though I suppose others have lasted longer).

I will spend the rest of my days
staring at the sky and thinking about her--
she, who I was forced upon, but loved all the same.
I wonder if she really and truly hated me,
or just felt disgusted at a world
that would shove us together and expect our love.

Author's Note

I wrote this for a prompt I received for an online writing class I took last year, but I find that I particularly liked how it turned out. I was intentionally vague, trying to use diction that would point towards two different relationships. I feel as though the quote-unquote actual relationship may be the harder one to recognize, but what do I know? Can anyone guess at who the girl in this poem is, and what relationship she has to the speaker? (Friend, spouse, enemy, captor, etc.? And allow "who" to refer to any noun. Is she an idea? A religion that the speaker decides to value only as he's dying? An animal (perhaps a dog or a cat)? A school?
Please tell me any shortcomings that I may improve or look out for next time I'm writing.