my fragile self

So here I am, sitting in front of you... Thinking, watching. It's a funny feeling, watching you, knowing you don't know I'm there.

You look so close, so real... I almost think I can feel you if I simply reach out with my hand. I decide not to try. I don't need this. I left... You left... We both did.

I made myself invisible, untouchable --perhaps unreachable would be the correct term. It's under heavy camouflage that I keep my watch on you. I must confess I can't resist it, your memory hunts me every single day. That's why I see you.

You've become my very personal angel of death. I dare not touch you, I dare not look too deep into my memories, I dare not think of you... of us.

This, now, is the eye of the tornado, the calm before the storm. I'm on a truce, the final truce... It'll soon be over, our final encounter is to come. I'm just sorry I know I won't be prepared. And I'm quite sure that I'll suffer the worse losses.

I see you again, you look so calm. It's all so calm... It's almost as if we'd never even met.

Just as if we'd never even met...

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