I Can't Stay

I can't stay.

I wish there was an easy way to tell you.

I can't stay.


When I decided to leave,

I cannot say 

but on the day I cross the threshold

I will leave behind a gore that will break you,

a gore only you can feel.


You will double in pain;

you will shatter as you stare at the red streaks.

Your heart will clench like a fist

as you look back on our time together,

what we ate

what we drank.


You will cry for me.

But by that time I will be at the border,

trying to cross over into the city of the has-been.

Your pleas unreachable to my ears,

your prayers muffled in padded cotton

holding my shed skin.


I couldn't stay.

I wish I had a reason for you.

We are back to square one.

Perhaps we will choose each other again.

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