I cannot face you,
You mean too much.
But if I do, I know,
How a mirror cracks to a million pieces,
This loose thread,
With which we hang,
Like a noose, will break.
And so I turn away to the trivials,
Making the noose tighter,
Making our noose thinner,
Just to shy away from you.
But the truth, what is the truth?
I lie to myself about you,
I lie to myself about me.
Somewhere I know,
I cannot face me.
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