a work in progess.

everytime i see your delicate heart strings,
i seem to graze them with my razor-wire finger tips.
not completely severing, but damaging them just enough to have to leave you.

i've tried so carefully to touch you,
as gentle as i can be
but each time i slip, and you end up wound so tightly around your spool of thread, tied in such knots i just can't untangle.

the only way to reach you is to cut through the knots in your heart,destroying all the progess, and all the love we built.

i've tried in so many ways to avoid the weak spots,
to touch your strings in such a delicate manor,
but i always seem so choked up and careless.

i'm sure you get the impression that i just want to experiment,
to use you as my first patient in my ruthless operating room.
but i swear, i've tried biting my nails down to the bone,
and each time they grow back, sharper than ever.

razor-wire finger tips can't be with delicate strings.
it's no equation, just a simple, painful truth.