Markiya Franklin


[Untitled (5)]

You can't leave me.
I won't let you.
I need you.
Not more than air - that's what love-blind people say
But I need you and that's got to mean something, right
You take your short trip.
Or break.
Whatever you call it.
I fall into depression.
You come back - we're fine again.
We're more than those couples on the street.
They don't last like we do.
Sure, they love each other

And it's a mutual companionship

But even you said it - I need you more than you need me
I don't mean to ramble but the thing is
I feel that this time is different
There's this darkness looming
And no, not the normal Mr. Sad cloud that comes when you take trips.
There's a danger.
I don't like it. I don't trust it.

I feel that this time you won't come back as easily - Hear me out.
You won't come back as quickly.
When I hit this trough of "The Depression"
When Mr. Sad's thunder is shoving me lower into the depths
I feel that - this time - it might take months for you to respond to my calls.
And I can't afford that. No.
If that happens.

If that happens. It's over.
We'll be over. No medicine can replace you.
I won't sleep. I won't eat. I won't blink if I have to.

This time.

This time.

I feel like I'll lose this "personal" connection I have with you.
You'll return to being a "thing".
Some "thing" the rich can't buy.
Some "thing" I can't fake for months.
Some thing I can't live without.
I won't live without.
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