and that's not how it should be
because you're not Jesus and you're not me.
so take me to your window and let me either jump
or fly off into a future you're not in
with a bunch of stained photos and poems you wrote me
that i'll either throw away or keep in a silver box
under the headboard of my bed
in case that i have nightmares i can throw those away too
and they can stay with memories in that silver box,
those terrible terrible dreams
living comfortably with recollections of you.
your best
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