If there was any doubt whether there exists a beating heart in this chest, the wretched pain you see in me from watching you fall in love should be enough to prove otherwise. Like a clumsy moth you beat against the meagre flame that is my soul and leave your dust inside me\u2014it pollutes me.<\/p>\n
You know... I can feel<\/em> you.<\/p>\n Every motion, every eye blink and intake of breath turned into a game of mirrors with your shadow mimicking mine. Alas, when I look, chancing to catch those bright chameleon eyes, your head turns away.<\/p>\n It cannot be both. You are mine, or you are not.<\/p>\n I call myself too good to play this fucking game of yours, yet here I sit, the caustic fool putting pen to paper in the twisted parody of a love letter.<\/p>\n Oh, that my words were spikes I could drive deep to carve my name onto your bones. Instead, I dull their sharp edges on my own flesh and sit here a wounded thing, unable even to rail at the villainous treason of my own heart.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" If there was any doubt whether there exists a beating heart in this chest, the wretched pain you see in me from watching you fall in love should be enough to prove otherwise. Like a clumsy moth you beat against the meagre flame that is my soul and leave your dust inside me\u2014it pollutes me. You know… I can feel you. Every motion, every eye blink and intake of breath turned into a game of mirrors with your shadow mimicking mine. Alas, when I look, chancing to catch those bright chameleon eyes, your head turns away. It cannot be both. … <\/p>\n