"
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song, telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
She says, I'm hurting because of you, though you touch me like there's nothing wrong. There's fire on my flesh, and you, the spark, ready to cause my combustion. Every time he speaks, she is blinded. Even though he is the reason for her never ending sorrows, she allows him to kill her, slowly, softly, because she thought he might be different than those who came before. A stanza of broken hope; can you hear it crack as it bends?