I caught word upon a string

carried by a little bird who told me

that you find in me no fault or misdeeds

that I have no need to be sorry

but is it ok if I still miss you when the light

burns low and all others slumber

when I have naught but myself to keep

me company and tender memories of

times spent in frivolous laughter with

the very icon of manic pixie male fantasy

but rather than focus on a certain… need…

I’d rather ask if its ok, maybe to miss you once

in a while or turn my pen to letter ask if

your ok once in a while I feel like

even if I’m not at fault I cannot help

that I’m being far too harshly punished

by you being gone and if it’s ok

I’ll play out little fantasies of

you once more giving greetings to me

and clasping me in a hug far firmer

than the most manly of handshakes

just one day know when your trials end

and if you ever find the need

I’ll be here waiting at the end

not carrying a torch but lighting

a candle bent


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