You walk around the earth and I know
you are there but we won't talk to one another again.
You brought it -
you, the last time
you were here.
You gave up on me then.
You, so I would have an excuse to throw
you out. But
you won't,
you're too strong.
You didn’t just -
you’ve got a tongue on
you.
YOU HAD A WHOLE FUCKING SHITLOAD OF THINGS TO SAY AND WE HAD A CONVERSATION!
You were articulate.
You left years, decades ago.
You haven't left.
You. Here.
You. Can't touch or even imagine what
you looked like when
you were here. I know
you were here. Don't know when. Don't know what happened or why
you had to leave.
You looked like - I wonder how
you felt - how.
You liked to celebrate your birthday.
You ever come back? Will
you ever tell me?
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