With every brittle bone in my body, I ache for her. My soul wraps around her body and holds on to all of the hope I have for "US". All of the pain I must endure, I do it for her. The things people call me and say to me. They say I am a "stalker". But they don't know. I am merely a victim of endless, pure, true love. There is no moving on for me, this is it. She is her and I am him. I need her and want her more than anything in the world.
As I ponder in her basement I know I should just confess my feelings for her, to her. I have come so far, as to be inside her own habitat. But I cannot bring myself to do it. I do not have the courage, not the strength. To look into those phenominal eyes and tell her all that I have gone through to come this far. She is my journey, she is my quest in life.
Fuck Romeo & Juliet. This is no fairytale.
I am a closet poet, and a closet lover. If you listen to my tale, you will realize that it is incredibly heroic and true. I surrender to love.
Keira Knightley, I love you. Won't you journey into your basement and find me here, crying over my lost bravery.