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by She
Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2204963
He dies a little every time she kills herself inside, but he won't let her go
He hears her crying.

He hears her becoming sick of anxiety.

He hears her tear herself down.

He hears her scream.

He even hears her die a little on the inside.

She cries silently, but he hears.

She vomits up all her insecurities behind closed doors, but he knows.

She tears herself down to a corpse inside her own mind, but he pictures the image easily.

She screams into her hand hoping to hold the secrets behind, but he knows the whispers she hides.

She dies every second of every minute, every minute of every hour, every hour of every day, every day of every month, every month of every year, and every year she lives through in silence, but he dies along with her knowingly.

She doesn't notice him, and he notices her every single time.

She doesn't know that every time she kills herself, she kills him too and he plans to keep that secret to himself.

For you see, he won't tell her that he knows or that he dies because he wishes to save her, just as she saved him all the years before.

For he will keep his promise, for as he said before, he will say it now:
"Till death do us part, my beautiful bride; however, even in death our souls will still intertwine for I will be your angel in the hell that is your mind."
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