Clown

I don't know what you have in you
that compliments that
which i never knew i had in me

it leaves me with wonder
how close my reality seems to be with your reality,
as close as what has become you and me.

I see you walk around
and i see myself
as i would walk around -
and it's unusual
in the best way that unusual could be,
in the best way that strangers are alike,
possibly.

its not love,
nor is it something less -
an emotion that lives uniquely in us,
too rare, unnamed and untimely.

I see your eyes
and answers are more distant
than they ever were -
but still,
it never not mattered
as much as it didn't matter before
It never was as important
as it had value times before
questions are drifting and it's okay
reasons are nowhere
and it's okay.

I know that I should
leave that truth that you exist -

it will kill me, that I embrace,
and I shall die
in a way that I've never died before.

past heartaches that still bleed
would not compare,
still its a fact that i must comprehend;

what I never will understand in your gaze
is something that I will hold,
after all has been erased,

nothing will ever matter more,
nothing will ever mean so much.

and you and me would be a faded memory,
the memory that made me breathe and sing.

and you would look at me then
with nothing but a familiar clarity.
a clarity that I would feel,
but choose to hold,
now, in secrecy.