I'm not the right person for you

From the very beginning, I know we're not meant to be. Every time you hold my hand, my fingers are just too small for you. A perfect projection of misfit and an image of imperfection. Your embrace is just too gentle for a monster like me. When you look at me, the warmth of those irises bore through the glaciers of my heart.

You're too much and yes, I don't deserve you.

You see, these palms are calloused and shaking cold. It was never strong enough to fight and hold on. I'm a zombie, undead but not living. An empty vessel whose too selfish that I ate all the good things around me and left it ruined. Eyes unseeing, I am blinded as I refuse to acknowledge the light of truth.

But deep beneath everything I am, I was hoping that maybe, maybe there is something that would make me worthy of your love. That there's this one subatomic reason that would justify why you stayed. That someday, I will be good enough to feel that you belong to me. I'm praying to every heavenly body there is in this universe that somehow, I can be the right person for you.

Yet, every time you're with me when you whisper how much I really mean to you, with those tiny unrhymed beats, you make me forget who I am and how misshapen my heart is to be treasured by someone like you.