Let me write you a poem.
Writing a poem is a sign of weakness.
I haven’t written one for some time.
I will cry when we part. I am crying.
You will not shed a tear, I guess?
I am silly. I can see it. I can’t help. Why is it so?
Let me accept myself and you, the way we are
and be happy with it.
Life has got secrets that I don’t understand.
One part of me is tearing apart.
You will take the part of me with you. Maybe this is what is painful.
What part of me. The one that I have taken from you, the one I have profited from you.
You will take the whole of you with you. Maybe this is what is painful.
Do I want to own you or am I able to let you go freely?
And I am taking the part of you with me. This makes me happy. Thank you.