Conceited

But if you ever need to leave me,

    indulge me with empty flowers
    amuse me with metered eyes
    unshackle me to the borderless skies
    relieve me of idle romanticism

And if you ever need to leave me, let me,

    burn like a moth of naivete
    sink beyond the river shore
    wilt like pretty poppies
    cry under midnight blankets

So if you ever need to leave me, let me please,

    run away to the evergreen promise
    of existence devoid of manic vanity,
    leap in front of your farewell–
    an innate narcissism.

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