Why are you still around?
You don’t want to be here,
and I can’t have you near.

Because you’d wreck me again,
destroy any ounce of faith and desire
that I could give to someone.

It’s been years, and it only lasted months,
if that,
and if it was even real.
I can’t tell if you we you were real.

I know how I felt.
You told me once how you felt,
years after…

But sometimes I think was it was a way to appease me
and maybe keep me dangling.

Nothing makes me more confused than this.
Nothing has me more empty.
Nothing had me more.

You entered me last night from behind,
it was just a hug,
and it was just a dream.
But a part of you has returned into me,
resemblances that took me so long to try to throw away.

None of these words get at what I’m trying to say.
I don’t wanna call you an enigma,
because I don’t want you to know that I think of you,
and put you on a pedestal.

I don’t want you to know that sometimes…
I’m scared I won’t ever get over you.

You think I’m scared of death?
I’ve done it a million times.

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