I have a thing for leaving things;
in ruing grief,
For deep, I know,
All I forsake, I can’t retrieve!
I have a thing for leaving things;
In silent swift disbelief,
As I flee all closures I owe;
All, I bereave,
I have a thing for leaving things…
in ruing grief,
For deep, I know,
The things I leave,
I can’t let go…
I have a thing for leaving things,
and flee away,
from friend & foe,
Though slowly waning, I still stray,
I have a thing for leaving things;
Like I can rid me from my way,
from that same shadow, I throw,
& from today,
I have a thing for leaving things…
and walk away,
so long… as though,
I don’t decay,
as I let go…
I have a thing for leaving things,
then stay behind,
in my own show,
a victim, I, of my own mind,
I have a thing for leaving things;
towards my hollow halls, enshrined,
in hushing lies, & darkling glow
I stay confined,
I have a thing for leaving things…
& all mankind,
I strive to go,
where none can find,
& none can know…
I have a thing for leaving things,
escaping blame,
as I disown,
the sorrows that follow my name…
I have a thing for leaving things;
for facing not, my self-set shame,
Adorning that vile truth, I show,
in a fair frame,
I have a thing for leaving things…
escaping blame,
as I disown,
my self-set shame,
For a pseudo-glow…
I have a thing for leaving things,
that haunt me yet,
in horrid awe,
in a soul-breaking anguish & fret,
I have a thing for leaving things;
Towards an unending sunset,
A place that warmth could never know,
Yet with regret,
I have a thing for leaving things…
Whoever I met,
I soon let go,
so doomed to dread,
To Love, To Owe…
I have a thing for leaving things,
To walk unknown.
That day, I leave life, I know:
I’ll have one sin for-which I’ll atone…
That I have a thing for leaving things;
so none would rue that day & moan,
so none would grief letting me go,
to dust and bone…
I have a thing for leaving things…
To walk unknown,
That day I leave life, I know:
I’ll walk alone,
The day I go…
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