she didn't fix me.
she didn't even try.
she just thrived and showed me the mirror of care.
a luminescence broke through the mist of persecution.

o' poor heart, my heart,
why do you always ruminate?
a fellow human she is.
the signs are a fallacy.
you always loose in the battle of love.
you always choose the wrong weapons.
you always bestow your faith in monsters.
and why, why, why do you love her?
why do you want to snatch away her freedom?
and why do you want to enchain her in your malicious feelings?

remember what they always tell you?
"You're a Pillock, unworthy of any love.
You should entwine with the crucifix."
not all of them can be wrong.
just because she is the way she is with you,
you want to be hers.
what a poor thing you've become.

But NO, people do praise me sometimes; for the sheets
or for the tongue.
but she, the most immaculate creation of God,
she is so different.
why do i feel so at peace here?
where does the tepidity come from?
why does it feel so natural,
as if my soul yearned for this.

this can't just be an infatuation, can it be?
but i must stay firm, and kill this monster of longing.
for i have to go miles and miles and miles.

but what if? what if it all works out?
what if it all goes like that in the books?
what if this is the time you always pondered about?

your hands sweat,
your legs tremble,
your gut wrenches.
is this a disease or is it the cure?
is it you or is it not?

you opened the chamber and the voice echoed...
"A stitched together thing you were, pulled by the hands that never cared if you unraveled."
but now the strings are gone.
and my face glitters with light.
as for the first time,
i stood
i laughed
i breathed.