Monday

The knife.

The fear is hidden
All alone - in a dusty storeroom, somewhere in my psychie.


What if you leave?
I will be alone
And everytime I dream of you leaving I picture myself crying on your shoulder
But what if you were gone?
To never return.
I would have no shoulder.
And endless tears.

I pray for you
and hope you will never leave
Tomorrow is not you're day.

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