6. O Bobby faleceu.
7. (tentei que rimasse)
Don't bullshit me. Stop pretending.
Don't look at me. Get out.
Enough eloquent talking
and fake goodbyes. Don't freak out.
Don't say sorry or we live
just like this: it will get figured out;
world and time everything heal.
Once again, my love: get out.
And take everything
we once planned to share:
the books, the rosewood sculpting,
the vynils, the paintings, the chair.
Leav nothing behind. I beg:
I want you to fuck off, my pet.
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