I was so fucking strong. So eternal. A stone element inside itself. Hold on to me, hold on and on and on. Don’t let go. Don’t let anything be. Don’t sacrifice – you can, you can, you can. But you can’t compromise. Or hold on too tight. Or let it slip away. Bitter tooth. Night and day. Night and Day. My fever played. But I just stayed. On and on and on. Only myself to see through all that went wrong. On the outside your telling truths that never hide good luck. Your adorable dear. But your never really here. Never on your best behaviour. It’s simple shame. It’s all about who’s to blame. Tell me about. Tell me about . All the wonderful dreams that never will meet me. Dance dance dance dance dance dance dance. Don’t lean on me. Im dying inside. And the outside now looks. Looks like leather. Dead me. Wandered into a mirror. Looked right through and into those dead eyes. No more character. No more me. I let go. I didn’t want to be. Who it was I used to be. If I die I’ll say. I never complained. I let it be. Let it be. Let me be me. Remember me? Remember my careless caress of love inside a childhood dream. What was I going to be? What was it? That made people. Being somewhere that was never real. Was not even real. Before the night draws out. The fever will become cold inside me. A stone element inside me. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. This is your last chance. Remember me. No don’t remember. No, don’t do that. Don’t ever belong to a place that exists only in daydreams. BE strong. Be so fucking strong. Overwhelm me. Behave like tall grass. Sway sway sway. I’ll miss that summer breeze. Hollow me out inside a warm breeze. I didn’t dream of anything. There wasn’t a place. A home. A mother. Or father. Only me. Only that breath. Only that in. That out. My body seemed to no longer want. Or could. Be. A part of me. All that construct. That personality. The wretched vanity that I made, me. More than me. I  thought would fool enough of you and all of me. Forward we go. The past is leant to memory. To regurgitate itself. It’s real but only truth knows. Truth is seamless in its losses. It’s all avoiding. All well placed. Between fear which doesn’t ever exist, and hope that hides intuition. An intuition that will save you. When you speak up for the last time. The last words. When you finally can say. With what little you have left. With what doesn’t say where you’ll go. But only where you really are. A conversation with one sentence. One man. That was once a boy. And all he ever wanted to say. About life. Love. Hope. Dreams. Passion. Place. Hurt. Something indescribable. His lost home. His tracing finger tips. Along the contour of her beautiful cheeks. The ones you kissed. Good night. Good bye. Good luck. I loved you. But love. It’s hard to breath.
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