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You
I love you,
Three words I believe will always be a lie.
I love you,
Three words I can no longer utter.
I love you,
Three words I fear more then death.
I love you,
Three words I'm terrified to hear again.
I love you,
Three words I'm scared to ever feel for you.
I love you,
Three words you tell me to believe in.
I love you,
Three words you have so much hope in.
I love you,
Three words I'm hoping you show me the meaning to.
I love you,
Three words I'm hoping could be true with you.
I love you,
Three words I start to believe in again.
I love you,
Three words that when spoken by you could mean so much.
I love you,
Three simple little words that I'm hoping last when it comes to you.
The rain still drips through my ceiling,
and I get that isolated feeling.
I reread your note,
slightly wet from the rain.
Over a hundred times I’ve read,
it still brings that similar pain.

On the night of my 21st year,
you were at the bar and drew me near.
Though it was hard to hear,
I could see your brown eyes filled with fear.
Then you described the details of your son,
and why your life was falling apart.
You looked at me asking where to start.
I recall you saying, “You don’t even realize,
how you cannot even see my dark eyes.”

As I stare into the mirror, each drunken night, it does not vary.
because every evening drifts me to the same cemetery.
This is where I sit and listen to your entity’s stories,
as I watch the pages fill with ink of sad memories.

We picked you up at the bus stop,
keeping all the silence, I was about to drop.
As we sat on my mother’s couch, we broke the news of your father’s death.
Never was something so difficult,
wishing it was my final breath.

On the way to visit your stone,
I can remember watching the blades of grass,
pass me by, oh so fast.
And looking up at the codes of street signs,
listening to the sound of wind chimes.
Then we would come to the bridge and I’d watch the still water,
pretending we were soaring over the endless unknown,
of the beautiful shimmering hydrogen way down below.
Once we scaled the peak we’d both smile and look down.

I stare into the mirror and find myself at the same cemetery.
In a passage of existential twilight,
I am securely fastened in a comforting, timeless moment.
Now I let the moment take over,
because there really is nothing past this.
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