All these years (and all those covered up, fears) Ah, babe.. the things I would do to keep myself separate.. to keep from being pulled in--
to all things, nonlife; from that which my spirit could not believe in.. to paths that felt to be diametrically opposed to a true north that I did not know, but could only feel Oh what have I done, my beautiful-- I have judged, and lost so much
in order to become so un-able to hold on to so little
Just how much of me would be left, had I let you in;
..everything?
Or no-thing--
sans the memory of all that I have done in order to obtain it.
I'll face myself to cross out what I've become erase myself,