In the deepest pit of your chest,
lays no man's land.
And area, you say,
is void of all emotion -
real or fabricated.
Have I managed to leave my mark;
to put a callous scratch
on your well-protected heart?
If I have,
then why haven't you told me?
And if I haven't...
Why am I still here?
You're waiting, you say,
for another.
The one who makes your heart beat faster.
T'he only one who makes you come alive
with mere words.
Maybe, you think,
she's too good to be true.
I've examined her
and you
from every angle imaginable.
And it pains me to look at you and whisper
"She's perfect."
But what else can I do?
Anything else would be too close to a lie.
And you always know when I'm lying.
There are no pretenses here
between you and me.
I don't expect you to sugarcoat
how you think and feel
or how you don't think and feel.
And as long as you're happy,
I will be happy.
With you.
And so,
just to clear the air.
Tell me:
Have I managed to touch
your heart?
*This is not a perfect piece, and wasn't intended to be such. Any feedback is, as always, appreciated. I cannot promise to adhere to any advice, but I can promise to consider it. *
