She Turns To Stone

She holds her heart in her left pocket, in pieces it remains, safely locked away. All she knows, is all she has, the rest has yet to come. She wonders, she regrets, yet don't we all? She pushes her mind away to keep it from losing itself. It's broken but it's still ticking. Like an old clock, never wanting to die...except on some days when it's just to hard to move. Her imagination flies, all alone, she turns to stone, while others begin to see; she's not the same as me. I'm still me. Just a smarter, stronger, me.

Before my vocabulary runs clear, let me just say, that I love you. I don't know you, but I do love you. In the many forms of love I know the difference of how each feels. Yet, no one believes me; Oh! She's naive! Let them think what they will. My pre-calculated charm will soon run low.

I planned to pick for you a rose, but now I just pass them all by, trying not to look. Would your gaze find horror at the thoughts that I've become? Would you still see the same little girl you've always loved? Or would you see what they all see; a cold-hearted fool, wandering aimlessly. I'm not aimless. I just don't know where I'm aiming yet. I'm still practicing. So, this is as close as I'll ever get; for you I'll kiss each rose I see and keep wishing I could give it to you, as you shine down upon me in daylight, and sparkle with me in the night. I miss you. I always will. And I'm sorry we never had that picnic. Next time I won't wait so long.....next time.

Do me a favor, don't let this moment pass.