When did this happen?
When did I one day look at you
Normally, as I always have
And WHAM, I love you?
I crafted so much denial,
Trying to convince the public,
My family and friends that
Their imagination has gone awry.
Its nothing more than their imagination.
So what do I do now that
The denial was MY imagination?
Its baffles me when I think
Of loving you, of loving
Your quirky mannerisms.
One would think someone who
Leaves body parts in fridges
And constantly criticizes everyone's IQ
And has no respect for
The living and the inanimate
And is married to his work
Is unloveable, is unworthy of this
Wonderful and awful gift,
The gift of love.
So why do I want to give my love
Away to you, and only you?
Why do I want to give it to you
No matter whether you crush it
And destroy it, like your experiments,
Or you decide to treasure it,
Care for it like your violin?
It baffles me, completely baffles me.
And yet, it is.
It was and it is and it always shall be.
I was always in love,
I am in love,
I shall always love Sherlock Holmes.