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I've yet to write of the child in me
that kept you close
and made you smile
I've yet to write of the terror in me
that held life and death
on a precariously short leash
I've yet to write of my love for you
though draining and awkward
was the love meant for this soul
take me to where the light
follows the waves to my feet
as she settles in
behind the horizon
and I will write my final words
at dusk
in the hours that remain
in the moments I have saved
in the grace of the setting Sun
9/2007 - slightly revised
Oh - what it'd be like
- to not be awake
- before the break of light
- before the dawn of day.

If only I didn't slave away
- for each waking hour of my days.
Don't expect to hear my voice
- if you do make the choice
- of visiting him.

For: if you should choose
- to visit him,
- it's me that you lose.

Don't expect to see my face
- if you choose to reside in space
- around him.

Don't expect my smile or laugh,
- if you choose him from the past.

And- remember to forget me
- before you go to see - him.

Don't expect to hear from me again
- if you do decide that you'll visit him. 

I will not take a stab like that to my heart
- from such a cold and jagged shard;
- especially since you know how I feel,
- especially since you know it's a deal-
-breaker that will leave me alone.. 

I'd say, "leave us alone," but no.. 
I'm sure you might once again find a home
- in that ***** you call Jon's heart.

An' I'll be left - to die an inevitable death
- one which is planned - by my own hands.
You're online but you won't answer me;
- when all I want from you is to
-                     respond to my plea
-                regarding your safety.
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