For Her I want to touch her. I want to touch her so badly. I have to stop myself from just reaching out and grabing her. I have to stay my hand from running it though her lovly hair. From running my hand over her shoulder and down her back. But I want it so badly that it hurts. My heart hurts for her. I try and stop it or deny it by saying that were just very good firends. But I know its because I want more. I start to make her feel sorry for me by acting sick or weak, so she will comfort me. I do it for her touch. When I feel her hand on my skin, my heart sorse high above the clouds. But then comes crashing back. Relizing that its not a touch of love but of friendship that she gives. And my heart breaks a little. A little each day can break down a persons will. Their will to live. Its getting to the point where I cannot take it any longer. So I think of ending it all. But she stops me again. I think of her devistated face and voice crying out to me, and that stays the quivering blade. So I live on. I live for her. She will never see it though. And so I will continue to die slowly, For Her.