Confused Poem by Marxist illuminatti

She knew she loved him, but he didn’t understand with what intensity her heart burned. She felt as if one day she would desinigrate from the feelings that arise every time he loomed over her. Similar to a pinnacle of lust; although I; I mean she that is to say never made any attempt to shed the shroud of numbness in which they both played protagonist to everyday; she loved him; she loved but did he love her; want her; need her just the same. Or was she only living in comfortably ignorant bliss. She loved him but had no courage to say those same words that beat like drums in her veins; flowed like air in her brain; unable to comprehend the circumstances they were in knee deep; for she will never be with him; for he is her teacher and she will forever be his pupil.....or will she