Strings, him and her

A male marionette, and a female.

Her

The puppeteer who sold his soul to keep his sanity; and the stringed, shell of a girl who once was. Both encaged within the realms of their hearts. She who once soared through the sky, a gypsy free of thought. He who watched from afar, wishing to trap her in his arms. A twisted love born in the deepest parts of his soul, unknown to even he. 

Him

He was her marionette, and she was the puppeteer. She made him dance to her own tune; and maybe all the strings inside him broke. She was the gypsy, the bird who escaped the cage. While he remained entrapped by the metal bars, singing notes of hope that would never reach a single ear. Fallen fears, fallen tears, a shell of who he thought he was; but never was. Yes, a still life doll limited to the cruel world inside his mind...