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Untitled Poem #12

Forgive me,
but I must bid you
a permanent farewell.
It’s not that I want to,
well,
maybe I do,
but it will be
easier for the both
of us if we never
speak again.

That’s what I tell
myself, anyways.
But tomorrow
I will be standing on
your front porch,
the mask of happiness
obstructing reality.
I will tell you that
I missed you,
which I have,
and we will sit down
and chat, just like old times.
However,
I will be looking for an
escape route
the whole day.

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