There has come a time of sanity 

where guilt is no longer any question of me.

Is it a hard or tough or rough 

me now?

Or am I simply saying: “Quite enough …”? 

I think, in truth, the latter my dears. 

And even when you decide

to ignore my 

self, I leave her 

not because of you 

but, precisely, because of me – that’s true!

And though the thought, so wonderful real, 

makes me think of you

day and night, all the time, in sleep and rhyme,

I must accept 

your desire to repel me; I must accept your disdain 

for my being.

For I am seeing a future 

better than 

now –

whether you want to be in it

or no …

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