you say next time
and i cling to it
like jack and rose.
playing with fire,
hand in the flame,
burn marks, singed hair.
tell me what you want from me
can you entertain the idea,
that you could love me? 
i dont want to ask.
i want to keep you in the box
in my metaphorical closet. 
just tell me, dear.
can you love me? 
how much is this gonna hurt?

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