This Will Destroy You
This Will Destroy You
Your word - your waves, I cannot write it.
I fear that pen to paper will - like the ink - run my brain dry - and I
will no longer remember you.
It is admittance for what I cannot yet bear; if you were still here
you'd smile at me knowingly: how I struggle to swallow my pride and live
in the real world - the present world.
Despite the deadened nerves I feel boxes and photographs between the
folds of my mind - your memories. If I do nothing you will die with me;
write you down and I may live and then die without you — for a
second time.