such a fine line,
between genius and madness,
darkness and light,
life and death;
you and I;
for so long now,
we’ve been running,
no place to call home,
no yesterday or today,
no place to rest our head,
no tears to shed;
no living or dead;
if it were up to me,
it would all be wiped clean;
anesthetized,
tranquilized,
sterilized;
without right or wrong,
past or present,
if it were up to me;
it would have all ended
long ago;
I wait as you walk out the door,
wondering when you will return,
or if you even will,
walking a fine line on the way
to the other side,
running a desperate race,
with no place left to hide;
I have been to the mountaintop,
I have seen the other side,
I have returned untouched,
I am ready to begin
again;
I am ready for the bullshit,
I am prepared for the failure,
I am poised for the inevitability.
.
.
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