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imagenery frind
when i come home
he is always waiting
for me
never tiring of the endless
games we play
never wanting anything different
never wanting anything new
his arms are warm with sorrow
his eyes are filled with silence
he will always be there
because he loves me
but not enough
i cannot escape him
it feels as if
when i die
his hands will be on my eyes
pulling them open
so i can play with him for eternity
in a utopia weaved with disdain
i loathe him
but i love him
i want him to leave
but i never want to let him go

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