I wish to imagine the wonderul
things we can do together,
But this is cold wonderlust,
for I cannot let it happen.
You are no project of mine.
You shall remain eternally-
as a beautiful memory.
A memory which saddens me
so deeply to my core
that I've severed my emotions from it.
It is a cut off limb from myself,
which I keep chilled.
I will be sorry to loose it,
But it will turn sour soon.
I cannot wait for the malignant spike to rear it's head
For all too soon it shall tear us assunder,
and naught but wishful thinking and hopeless glue
shall hold us togther.
All too soon my love will be bitter to you,
And yours to me.
I wish only there were a healthy way to realise our dreams together-
but for one so stationary as you,
and one so full-of-flight as me,
There never shall be any realisation to be had.
We face this world apart, and in different dirctions,
And I cannot bare to think it.
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