You may if it troubles you so greatly. Summon your protector and call your army; only then will I decide to take leave of your bed. Your harbored youth and trust. Uncovering my lies you saw that I was in fact not God, I did not poses any special powers or envision any unfamiliarity. But it was good while it lasted, your head upon my shoulder, sappy love letters. It’s all true, do you believe me? It’s all true and I’ve lied to you. The writing, the poem on the wall, it is what I love. The grieving of loss and difference of two halves. Sharing the same cup, the same worthless luck that was handed down from mother and father. Though we rarely fellowed, we still doubled from the halves given to each who use to fellow and now recently halved again. It’s our tragedy that makes the stay a heavenly retreat for afternoon daydreaming and the wall to wall carpet. An expanse that takes matchbox cars and star wars figures decades to cross, creating a microcosm of a rat race with no true lies, aware only of the present and the goal it leads. Our halved fellows parted time and history fell mercilessly in. Oh joy for our independence we’re just paper dolls once discarded, wipe and a little ironing and their just like new.