I watch you walk away. In the evening time. I watch you disappear. The windows turn on. The windows go out.
My brain is not made to withstand Earthling relationships.
I will finish my closed life behind closed doors. Let the incomplete manuscripts chase me around the room until I am too exhausted to do anything but submit to them and complete their wiring.
The sanest--and most trustworthy--of you are the ones who want out, as quickly as possible.