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the art of leaving you.you dwell in the space between two breaths.
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you inhale and exhale,
and then you leave.
but i've been taking notes, and someday i will leave everything,
just like you.
you say i will only ever dream of burning it down,
after all, i never took that last step that night.
i want to hate you for that,
for being right. but i'm too sad.
its become a hot air balloon inflating in my chest, expanding
until there's no room to feel anything else
not even for you.
and you are a loaded gun,
or a starting line, set to take off like a jet trying to outrun my storm.
i am an empty stomach,
hungry for anyone that will fix my broken.
i should know by now we all have to save ourselves.
i've finally figured you out.
you're just like me, too weak to save yourself.
too proud to admit it.
thats why you're always leaving,
always entering just to exit.
because every footstep echoing away from us,
all the empty subways and faraway towns
are just a rehearsal for the day you leave us with a gun in your m