She is, was unbelievable perfection.
Bright eyed colours of yellow and green that made April May jealous.
I can't even count the times I fantasized running my calloused fingers through her curls that I swear could kiss the ground if they tried hard enough.
The flaws she saw in her flesh,
In her curves,
The things that TORTURED me.
Always, always so close that I could hear her heart beat,
But not over mine.
Never over mine.
Sometimes at night when we'd sleep together,
I'll listen to her breathing.
You always hear of when a man is truly in love with a woman, he'll stay awake just to watch her sleep.
What a stupid cliche.
Love calculated by an action stalkers would pride themselves in.
But count me as one of the sick.
Nothing was more comforting,
Nothing than that of her breath as I'm constantly trying to still my own.
She made me strong.
She invaded my heart, walking in like she owned it,
Cut out the dead for much cleaner muscle to grow,
Cleaner than I could ever get my hands no matter how many times I'd wash them.
She made me dream of being a better man,
Made me want what I didn't think possible of myself.
She pushed me to do good without lifting a finger;
She coaxed me to love without parting her lips.
She made me weak,
Infecting my system and setting fire to the lies I used to protect myself.
I never wanted anyone that close.
I didn't WANT her to see the dirt under my nails,
Accumulated from clawing my way out of the holes I'd dug for myself over and over, over again.
You never feel as self-conscious as when the woman you love, want more than anything,
Looks at you without blinking.
But I stood.
Covered in dirt and tears and rust,
Baring my imperfections, insecurities, heart and soul,
Just for her,
If I just stretched far enough, worked hard enough, love her more than I knew ANYONE else ever could,
If I'd just tried harder,
Told her how perfect she was until she saw it herself..
If I'd just washed my hands one more time,
I would hear her heart beating over mine.