And we all have a bit of dirt in us,
But you held the microscope the wrong way around,
You saw me more than your field of vision would allow;

You saw all of me.
You held this image in the red light of your mind,
You used me as a target, and
You pinned me to your heart.

Strange as it sounds to say,
It hurt me more when you missed me,
And when I watched your love for me pour out of your veins,
And when, pinned to your heart, I watched you clean away the blood,
The mess, the dirt...
As if I was never there at all.
And you know not to look in your heart for me.