Here we are again.
Edge of the Portal.
You told me we'd never come back to this God
Forsaken
Spot.
But I always thought
"I wonder what it took"
For the people to come up with that name for the land we forsook.
Right away, I'll ask you three things.
1- What did you learn?
2- What will you do different next time?
3- Do you really think you're coming back?
Like I promised to...
A promise is a promise,
but a great love can break almost anything.
Not that the promise got broken...it just wasn't exactly accurate.
It defied expectations of sheer elation and turned a DeathSeeker into a different kind of advocate.
Praise be to glory and the light! That's what I'd tell you if I was still high. Remember? Like that time? When I'd get so stuck in rhyme? That I couldn't define what the slant of the rant signed? YOU ARE SO RIGHT!
Be animal. Be animal all you want.
I'll still animate you from beyond the haunt.
But let's be honest, if it's death you're after...
I think...I may have just met my match.
Ok, you win. Congratulations, you reached the end.
You've quenched the worst thirst that my nightmares could portend.
There is an incredible difficulty, writing in great grief.
Postmortem depression.
Pre-partum relief.
You knew that your death would cause me to split, so you held onto it for way too long. But that death, just like anything else you love so dear, you must set it free eventually.
I'm just stating facts at this point, we're too close to the brink to tip or to cry, the shattering that is happening is slowly enrapturing the entire essence of a lifetime of imbuing something like a w o r d with a purpose.
with a purpose.
with a purpose.
with a purpose.
Scary. The thought.
The thought you turned so dark.
The dark I call the dark because it's
driven into me that
I should call the deathbed
dark.
The death I learned to fear,
to hate,
to fight,
to ****
to push my life as far as it can go against the sea.
Procreating until the entire world is covered in me,
And we're all swimming in a surging ocean of my own mortality.
You. Have. Stopped. Me.
From being that reaching fool.
The man who has a different motto for every single situation.
I can never forgive you...for instilling in me: that peace.
That crazy, crazy peace that fights for cessation of perseverance.
The light inside the lighthouse at the end of the tunnel, hanging by a rope from the sky.
You are going to be ok.
You are making it ok.
You are making death something I need not seek.
Making it something that will come to me.
When I am ready.
And when you finally get on that boat.
And you're leaving.
Take one last glance.
At the boy...
Who you have watched grow into a man.
Who has run away a thousand times.
Always promising to come back.
...but sometimes not coming back as often as he promised to do.
Who in this moment has realized:
If you leave home in order to find your home,
Do you ever really leave?
The final night.
The last dawn.
Before your elements dissolve.
Into what I've always called mine.
But truly,
I was yours,
From the moment you saw me,
and decided for yourself,
to call this...
feeling
home.
I'll always come back?
No.
I'll never leave.