My heart beats in my chest but it doesn't beat the same. It has never for me but now it doesn't for you. When I first saw you, it was the very first time I felt it. Every time I saw you it only drummed faster as if to compose a beautiful symphony. Now the music doesn't sound when you make your presence. A dal dark slow patter, almost echoes as if death lingers knowing and waiting for my sudden short time, almost like you had written him an invitation to my very steps. I once left you my delicate heart in your small soft silk lhands so you would know I'd give anything to you. Maybe I hadn't measured the beets to see if maybe I was afraid or maybe it was just to soon.
I watch as it touched your finger tips and it grew to a calm. A new melody like that of the flapping of wings rushing the air making a sound, so moving, as if angelic. Beautiful was almost pitiful to describe it. It stole the air from my chest as I voiced out to sing too you, a gift I would only do once. As I watched you over time your eyes grew bitter tell they no longer held me. And I watched your hands and I saw as you molded my heart into a whisper tell it sounded no more. Soon it became a pain in my chest as if you pierced it with a dagger, purposely dipped in a poison, that would end ones life. Your eyes had no compassion and soon you walked away as if I was never here from the beginning. This heart beats but it beats slow as if winding down giving its final whisper tell it soon becomes a corps.