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05-01-06
Bill Reed
When The Fire Dies, So Do We
So, it's been a long time.
But here I am again,
holding this pen in my hand staring blankly at a piece of paper.
You wouldn't believe what it's taken to bring me here.
I've been thinking about my future,
and who I want to be.
I've really spent my whole life looking ahead to the future,
but I don't have any idea what I'm looking forward to anymore.
I guess I do know one thing for sure:
I want to be a man who has loved with abandon.
After all is said and done I want to have fought bitterly for a girl.
It's strange, but I really wanted to be your hero.
Like the prince in those fairy tales who gives it all for the girl he loves.
Maybe it's just my romanticized notion of what love is,
but I want to give everything for you.
I haven't been able to write like this for a long time.
Maybe some part of me left when you did.
I guess all of this is meant to say that I want you to come back to me.
That was last night.
And now a fire illuminates the darkness,
casting shadows that play tricks on my eyes.
I'm watching the letter I wrote become ashes that rise to heaven and then fall slowly to the ground.
I can't help but think that when the fire dies, so do we.
And the only proof that remains is a scrap of paper that reads, "come back to me."
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