There's always a face at the window, looking into my heart.  Just watching.  Or perhaps waiting. For?  The everlasting beat of the song of my life to suddenly stop.  Or maybe for my steady pace to quicken.   In  fear of, Death?  Or fear for the eyes that once held so much life to suddenly become empty and lifeless. 

No.  Now I know why she is always watching.  She just wants to stay on the verge of my grasp.  Perfectly balanced on the edge of mine and hers.  She doesn't know how to love.  She thinks by watching me she will learn.  Yet it is something you know how to do, or you don't.  You are either born with love or born with hate.  So how was she born with nothing at all?  A human is born with a heart, yet she was born empty.  No good inside, yet no evil.  I am in love with a hollow being that has never heard a beating heart.