And my heart strings slowly strum.
Like the sad strings of a broken violin.
She loves me.
I see it deep within her eyes, I am not one she'd soon forget.
And so weeps the soul of a loveless, broken man.
She loves what I have shown her.
Nothing more.
How could I let her in.
My mental walls are steel, my heart has no recesses.
It brings me pain and awful guilt to know her heart is mine.
For hers still beats and mine has long been dead and decomposing.
The stench causes my eyes to water.
This daughter as Beautiful. Unique. Angelic as the stars above.
Could never have my love.
For i have none at all.
I know only the pains of disapointment, the taste of hate within.
I do not wish to poison her.
I would that her heart live.
This pain within is crippling.
Her smile tears my soul.
How could it be that I, so broken, could ever make her whole.
With lips, so numb and frozen, I say to her; I love you.
And how I wish so badly to believe.
But love is a thing I've never known.
And she, it seems, is fluent.
This angel smiles and speaks with grace.
I cannot bear to keep her gaze.
What is this fear in me.
That one day I would lose her.
And so I cannot give.
As all I've loved has gone away; I fear she too, would fade.
This is the root of my numbness.
I see it now, so clear.
It's not that I cannot love her.
It is that I already do.
And I fear that the fact that she loves me back is too good to be true.
I wonder, when she sees my eyes, if she could see my pain within that only she could lift.
My angel.
I am an undeserving man.
And still my life is blessed with her.
She floods my thoughts, pervades my being.
It seems she never needed to break into my walls.
Somehow, she's always been within.
Even before they had been built.
I say I don't believe in love.
This lie is more for me than any.
But here, I do finally admit.
I love her with all my broken pieces.
Every. Little. Bit.