She is a heart breaker, and his heart has been broken so many times, that it feels like the stone of ancient ruins. He is hollow inside. His love for her is so vast, yet he dare not go there. It is the ocean beneath the ice upon which he skates; always vigilant of the cracks, lest he fall through and be drowned.
She is a heart breaker, yet she has no malice. She is dying slowly, and has been for as long as he can remember. He cannot save her, even though he has become Superman, and his heart… kryptonite. He has tried to get close, but his pores begin to bleed and his insides melt in a hemorhagic fever, and he quickly backs away and wants to cry, but his tear ducts lay there too… obsolete amongst the ruins, long since dried.
Lying in bed at night in those half-awake moments, he vaguely recalls an evolution of loving to hurting to surviving. The hollow man is a foot soldier, exhausted but marching forever forward, for he can sense the evolution begin to stir again; this time pulling him from surviving to believing; believing that if he continues to march for as long as there is breath in his lungs, he will one day discover the path home to his heart. Peace, love, dove homies.