On the first day of the fifth month,
day one of the second third- the first quarter, of the start of the third mellinieum.

Still, I dwell here, thinking back and fourth- reflecting on all the experience.
This is my  final creation,
 beneath this ceiling,
Within these walls,
with this recording of the soul,
curated and confessed privately for,
The few things that I need you to know, are to be documented here

From thought to word and now digital mark,
the instinct of reason and rhyme-
how one’s truth informs each headless heart,
While another's, every heartless mind.
The two years that you’ve known me, have made up the decade’s end ,
the ten years in which I’ve faught to skip
over me & my past’s relationship-
To retain the hope,
Doubtlessness’s equipped,
to embrace me as I lose the grip, that,
Just like the silhouetted shadow’s tip,
I leave here.
   I leave behind.
        I leave

& wont return.

You know things about who I am, that no one else might understand
From how I think and feel and speak,
To fears that make me truly weak,
My disordered mind and damaged bones,
How the music might hold me, secure in its tones.
But to give up and in uncertainty's dismay, not to forget or out loud to say- these words which are, in a way, a goodbye; immortalized here and then within the minds eye, they enter your fortress's cerebral,  citadel,
And despite all we are, still achieve our best hell (as a good life).

Evil me and good for you,
With kindness, I extrapolate
Patient virtue.