You speak in tongues of love and truth.
Begging for my salvation,
Laughter from outside heats your cheeks in frustration.
But I’m long gone from the arena of charades.
Look at me,
And stare right through,
So I can stare, right back through.
With our connections glancing,
We’ll brush souls,
Sending shivers of purity through our spines.
This, is as close as we get, I wearily confess.
This, I must admit, is the the sad beauty I live for, without the make-up.
Not for knowledge,
Or truth,
Or God.
But, rather, this haunting reminder of absolute unimportance.
I’ve seen this revelation bring fear and tears,
Thanks to perspectives outdated and struggling.
And I’ve moved past relating with those crying eyes.
I’m no miracle worker, I whisper with a sad tone.
But hear me now, for ever and today,
Let go

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