You know why I'm sad?
I'm sad because I haven't forgotten
how to take the elevator down to level 18,
to face my fear every chance I get,
to talk to her while she sharpens knives.
Meanwhile I have a close friend close by,
to help my shoot
my fear and guilt and shame and anger and regret before
she stabs me in the heart.
My friend, before she leaves,
is there to tell me to go back,
to wake up,
to move on.
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