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Strong hands, soft heart,
This is not the sort of boy I envisioned.
No, you are more man than boy,
Though you try so desperately to convince the world otherwise.

This weight of you, it is all-encompassing,
The idea of you almost too much for my astounded mind.
How could someone like you be,
And how even so present?

Your fragrance has ever been there,
In my hair, in my hands,
Yet I never realized how much I was losing
Until I reached out and took it.

Took it, took you,
Took away what I should not have and yet had to.
This pressure building in me,
It burst from my veins and throbbed from me to you.

How then am I to go on?
There can be nothing here,
There must be nothing here,
I have ruined my safety and still I have no regrets.

I am ruined, and surely you are too,
Knowing what will come,
We know what looms.

Intertwined, I mourn.