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August 1, 2013 by Wayne.

It was terrible having to need you as much as I did, but it was marginally preferable to drifting away
so I held on to you as you walked away – a step closer to freedom with each loss

Numb to the idea of death
The cessation of existence replaced by a shot panning across the people I affect in my passing, a reduction of comprehension to the more familiar experience of watching life through an imaginary lens tracking at the speed of god and cutting out the routine rejection and injection of chemicals into every encounter with a slim girl

Nod your head now at death, great equalizer of all

She said yes:

And at the start of nights
End of days
When our promises lose collagen and the rain starts dripping through the canopy of things we should have said
Will you be old enough to tell that all the words to wish you well are variations of ‘go to hell’?
And late at night, when you message misanthropic office boys, will you remember all I took – not much really, just the speckled grey winter coat I bought for you because it reminded you of childhood winters on great Albertan plains, and also a few cards from me that you’d left in a dusty pile by the shoeshine box

But you said no and that was the end of it

I suppose I got a bit stuck in my petulant dreams.
When you’ve had one, you’ve had them all anyway – the same recycled recollections of longing and regret, never anything of any worth, like er the geography of the imagination or the fabric of the cosmos. So, okay, buckle down, Rhia.

You can walk all you want, along edges of buildings rising up from between the webs of unplanned streets and growth, past the people threatening to jump if you won’t just give me that one chance, I said while trying to keep my eyes open so as to not get dragged down by vertigo, looking forward at nothing, like a former member of the MaryJill band or go ahead, scream about the turning screw or the lives of others far from heaven, fuck it, nobody’s blue

Licked up your words without a word of thanks. And that was about all I had left in terms of unstructured words of comfort and wit, at which point I could have kept moping and turned into you but I decided not to – decided instead to keep needing you, to keep grasping after your footsteps, to forever embrace loss and the comfort of being hurt.

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