what’s the matter, boy?
run away, please.
just run away.
i scare
myself
with the realization
that i still hold you close
even after
the time that’s passed.

don’t you see, boy?
i know myself,
and in the past,
though it stays,
i don’t
love long.

my moods
are quick
and sharp;
at one moment,
behold a smile.
the next,
hide away
as bolts of rage
strike
the earth.

release the hounds!
my bloodlust
must be sated.
my mind screams:
i must
find a man
worth the hunt;
one
worth the strain!

so please,
boy.
you’re flawed
and your bones
are brittle
beneath the strength
you possess,
but you
can still run.

i’m still here,
and that
puts you
at risk.

i’m not worthy of this.
i
am not
worthy.

so run away,
boy.
run away
like the rest,
like i should be,
or stay
and risk.

(fortune favors the bold,
but what of the dead?)

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