Sketch 134
I used to think you knew everything.
Not everything but enough to fool me.
How do you live with yourself?
I'm starting to see how you don't.
My breath fills your lungs.
My blood pumps your heart.
And your words convince me
the stealing of these things is love.
But it's not.
There's no trust in this love,
only a fuck,
and I'm starting to give less of that.
Darling, didn't you notice
I am always there for you?
But there is not here (with you).
Don't you ever feel safe here?
No, that's a statement:
Don't you ever feel safe here!
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