Quantity is not enough

To the lover I didn’t have: I wish I was you

To the revelation I almost had: It was just my imagination

To the world I have: hatred will not save you (with certainty)

To the world I almost had: It’s time to go now

To the poetry I can’t write: I’m just kicking You like a ball

Which comes back and goes forth in my sickest hours:

It’s time to go now

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