C'etait Vrai, Ma Cherie j'ai t'aimé

This was written for my temperate muse A. I've been long bothered with thoughts of A, and because of that I find myself far too detached. If Anything, I'd love to be honest with A if given the chance

City lights, and star-lights become little more than candle light…
and the sound of people sighing,
cars speeding, and phones ringing become little more than lulls
within the night.
But, still you grasp your heart in a melancholy haze.
Can you tell me why it is with all
these vapid distractions
why your heart bleeds…?
Because Ma Cherie
I've long held within myself this deep chasm of depression…
I've long since
adolescence
held a death grip over emotion,
and perhaps this is the time where I meet my end here.
For it appears like yourself
that I've ran my last run within this
massive mechanism.
But, there is an all knowing about us isn't there?
For we hide tears, screams, and blood
beneath a veil of gentility,
as if hoping
the puppeteer won't see a screw loose.
Nonetheless,
call me insane as I burn away with nothing but thoughts of you.
You make the most sense.
You who destroys foundations,
You who paints new sceneries,
and
you who lies unperturbed
by these distorted mechanism that we've long held
true…
protect me from this chilling apathy.
I close my eyes to the city lights, and star lights,
and people, and cars, and phones,
and all I see is the petite melancholy you…
why?
And will you be able to answer me,
save me from this black void,
before, I am replaced?

Would you…
listen if I said I loved you,
because you were the only one who made sense.