Perhaps I must forget about you, or else you won’t be
But I’m scared of forgetting about you that you also might not live free
Our friendship, my imagination and what it makes me see
Truth is, it doesn’t seem like writing about you will make you come to me
I don’t want you to just be the earth, a finite piece of dark matter, as real as space
It hurts to think that I will move on without you, and never see your face
And the beauty and righteousness, the growth from an unlocatable place
Yet for the same very reason, for you to ever appear anywhere in actuality, it would take a gift gift of Gods’ grace
I don’t want you to be lost~