Sound Heart, Deformed Conscience

He grew accustomed to those long, flowing locks That cascaded down her elegantly curved back. He grew to yearn for the texture and the smell of them As he listened intently to the soft hues as they rippled through. So he wasn't prepared when she would gently hack Every inch of her auburn curls from their stems And bid them a tearful farewell as any sweet girl would do. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault, But he sure could convince himself otherwise. Then one summer day he found he took a liking to her thick lashes That curled so sweetly without the aid of any overpriced product. He learned to smirk as other boys snuck conspicuous stares and All the girls envied her as they glommed on mascara that reeked of tar. No one was prepared for the autumn night she delicately plucked Every single stunning lash from its resting place and Let them be swept away in porcelain sinks to lands afar. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault, But he sure could convince himself otherwise. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault, But he was shredded by the tide he was fighting against. There was a fire, burning his chest, It was pouring, but he felt blessed When she would speak to him over mugs of hot chocolate. When she would lay eyes glued to the ceiling, Mouth moving but not articulating, He could never bring himself to push the topic toward it, He closed his eyes and felt the water undulating, He closed his eyes and the fire was nothing. One beautiful day the planets found themselves slowly aligned As she withdrew the scissors from her bookbag the school supplied. She grew to love to drive them between her eyes, tracing backwards algebra Equations on her cheeks that had never made any slice of sense to her. No one saw it coming, that day she showed up deer-eyed Her angel face in a state less presentable when other days had stirred awe From the wandering eyes who drew focus in from her crystal blur. It could be anyone, it could be anyone, But he sure could convince himself otherwise. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault, But he was shredded by the tide he was fighting against. One peculiar day as the sun shone through dreary clouds She removed a spoon from her priceless China and gouged Her pretty eyes out, which cried for the last time, Last time.