For Meg.

Drinkers with Writing Problems


You have to decide.

What it is that you want.

What it is that you need,

from this moment

this minute

this second

this eternity

between us.

Between

truths and truth

how

why

what,

was meant,

what,

was left unsaid

what,

sadly not unsaid.

Here,

locked in our futures,

locked in our past.

This is where we bend time

elongate space

where

i

am reaching out past

the walls that jail and preserve us.

Reaching for you,

stretched till i become thin as ice

fragile as glass

and you have to decide,

if what you really want

is to break me.

whiteflag

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