You win

I grit my teeth and surrender, to you, you are the winner declared in the obituaries, you are forever preserved, stunning and brilliant, perfect in every way, loved by so many, deeply and unmoving. Immortalized like the statues of clay and paintings of oil, like the gods and goddesses eternal, worshiped and celebrated for all time, heavy in the mind’s thick fog of war and marriage, tragedy and triumph, body count be damned, epic voyage and lessons learned. No mere mortal can compare, can challenge, can even shake your hand or get a fucking pat on the head. To me you are permanent. You win. You win. I can’t even sign myself out of the match. 

Let me

Bind 

Your

Dead

Body

To

My

Gaping

Heart

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