Poem
Letters to you,
the undeniable,
the sanctimonious,
the one I will wait for...
No evil to fear,
no sweat to avow,
and nothing that I am not.
I wondered for years whether or not you could exist,
I felt inside things that now don't wander but can comment-
on everything that I have become and will include in my great future,
I evoke madness at your thought,
and dread toward the guilt to follow,
I intake a symptom of something that is hardly human,
but accept it as a part of my origins.
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