A Poisoned Portrait

The most ugly, beautiful women ever.
Striking into souls with deep blue eyes.
Swearing nothing, confusing everything
She destroys bonds like a child takes to a bubble
She could be loved, she is loved, she does not know how to be loved
All of it she takes
To the misery of some sad story she creates.
Soft delicate skin
Protecting venom that somehow found its way into her heart.
A sad story indeed.
Mostly for her,
But let us not forget all those who tried and failed.
I am one of them.
My efforts are leaving me blinded and heated.
An uncomfortable postion that I wish to drop
To breath her out
To not wish her anymore sadness
Instead hold a strong heart,
even though....
She hates the story she created about me.
That is the hardest part.
I can not make her see me for me
She insist on painting pictures that suit her protection
I am a casualty of her separation within a dark imagination
Her poor heart.
Her poor child.
I will have to continue to love her from a distance.
Always wishing she would see me
Not her portrait of me.
Tortured soul.
Give your fire a chance to breath.