Run While You Can
All I ask of you
is to let me go.
You have not wronged me.
Perhaps it is simply that
I cannot survive being known.
I do not want anyone,
and I do not want you.
I know this will hurt you.
Honesty is often mistaken for cruelty -
still, I mean every word.
It is not safe out here.
I do not want you.
I do not want any of them.
I do not want your violence
or your torment.
The lies.
The cries.
The life I disguise.
The love you withhold,
and the hurt you devise.
And you, my love -
more than anything,
I cannot let you see me.
I fear it is already too late.
Why can you not let me go?
Why do you keep returning?
I do not want you to know my anguish.
I do not want it
to know you.
I do not want conversation,
or comfort,
or concern.
I do not want your reassurances.
I do not want your pretending.
I do not want your anger.
I do not want your sorrow.
I do not even want your happiness.
Perhaps that condemns me.
Perhaps it is selfish.
For that,
I am sorry.
I am afraid.
I do not run because I hate you.
I am afraid.
It is not safe out here.
I was never meant for this world.
Look at me.
Look how faithfully
I follow what harms me.
So for my final act of love,
I will leave.
Do not follow me farther.
Do not mistake my distance
for a plea to be saved.
Go.
And do not return.
If there is any mercy left in me,
it is the hope
that my disappearance
might spare you
from becoming lost beside me.
Go, now.
Run while you still can.
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