My attempt at reassurance is lax. I know I know that the warmth is artificial like the smile of the waitress who doesn't give a damn anyway. I know that I must leave. I realize a thousand pains a thousand roads I've walked upon each without an end to where I'm standing now to where I now begin. Yes, the table contains contents, and the index is more than just a finger of speech.
Poetry is Love.
It is the tree in which the poet dreams. My dark vision shall become the light of the world. Feel free to deny your existence. Die when you feel like dying. We do not know Death, but remember, we did not know Life until we got here.