I’m writing you
a piece of history
from this balcony
where I can see
all below me
it’s all planned out
like a battle map
so why even try
I know I can fly
I know I will touch the ground
I know I will scorch
the earth
carving your initials
in my skin
no one can pronounce your name
but me
but, to me, it is all the same
it is your blame
I crave
you’re concave
and I am perplexed
falling from apex
I am a cylinder
and you are
multi-facted
bones braced
and you are so abrasive
adhesive
you hold my heart
together when I stop
time and count my
blessings
but me
but, to me, it’s all the same
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