Holding my heart without your hands. More like your lips it cannot withstand. It's like you put her on a shelf and show her some love once in a while. Some subtle kisses, words, terms of endearment, occasional warm smiles. She takes it all in Iike jotting it down in her diary. She wants to leave with you like dream employer but she says "I know he won't hire me". You tell her all the thing she needs to hear,make her feel like a woman should, like she should not have one fear. When you leave or express uncertainty of her ownership you disguise it as "Maybe one days or Soon some days" leaving her with false hope you'll purchase. Yet you call her one of a kind and irreplaceable. It's like you put her on a shelf, put her in your arms for a moment, make love to her , lay her down facing away from you. She'll always feel your warmth and "security" but without assurance from any truth in your eyes, she's just imagining any possible genuine purity. She starts to recognize a pattern when you pick her up and put her down. Not being able to explain her fluctuating sense of reasonable doubt. Words and more words without consistent action she then asks a couple questions. Do you love me? Want me? Do you really care? You pretend to be taken back, offended hurt like it's not fair. There goes those words, terms of endearment,laying her down. Attempting to convince her she's paranoid and shouldn't speak another sound. She listens, maybe it's her, she's being insecure because it's like you put her on a shelf, a pedestal, in the clouds closer to heaven. So how could she be so unsure?