If you turn your back on me
you may also put a knife in mine
so why beg for attention from my own demise
showing the shade of your intent, dimmed as dark as your concealed eyes
never hug me,
because, within that moment of trust
I fear the truth, in a face I can’t see, made behind me
that may only show disgust
and when you turn your back
just finish walking away
because I already feel the axe
if I were to ask, you to stay
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