What would anyone want with someone as broken as I?

What man could lot at me without pity?

Afraid as I am of the slightest affection,

no one would want to teach me to love.

How am I to be your wife,

when the thought  a kiss leaves me petrified?

I promise you though,

really, I do,

that I will always love you,

even if I may not show it,

but oh, my dear, my sweet, my love,

if you read my words

you just might find

that I can tell the paper everything.

On the paper with a pen, I will write

that my love for you burns bright,

brighter than the sun and all the stars,

because you, my dear, my sweet, my love,

you heal my bruises and fade my scars.

I hope that you'll know dear

that even broken as I am,

I love you more than the moon loves the sea,

as I shall pull you close to me

for the rest of all eternity.