Underneath the cliche

Like north and south they came together,
Drawn through the pull of polar opposites.
Him with the tattoo and the interest in obscene,
Her with the shades of darkness she never wanted seen.

He was saving for a new bike,
The kind that roared right down the road.
She was after a shiny dress,
The likes of which she'd never owned.

Yet it was he who was the smitten one,
He promised her the world, and wanted to deliver.
She was the one who held back, she didn't want it.
Sure it would wither under her vile touch.

Yet he gave it a go, and she wanted to try,
And it slowly turned into love.
But the more the wonder appeared in his eyes,
The more she thought she saw hate and disgust.

The rejection was swift, but it was full of hurt,
And fiction she saw as truth.
He only saw lies, he only saw hurt,
And the razor she kept under her pillow.

It was her, in the end, who brought the end;
So sure it was only further down the track.
And it was he who struggled to understand,
But he never did bother coming back.