What I desire? This Thing, grand, deep, proliferating, stystematic.
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Classical crux:
Impossibility inside
That, pain to yourself, is pain to your close ones:
Either you tell the truth, and they suffer, to the point of being torn between loving you and not bearing you at all
Or you lie, if you even can, but then you aren’t even close to anyone…
Happily enough
The closest ones
Are distant enough now
Out of my darkness’ reach
And the others, not so close,
Can watch that with serenity…