I never would have loved you,
or even allowed myself to care.
My emotions would have some semblance of normal,
my soul would remain unbared.

If I had known there would be an after,
or suspected how empty it would be,
I’d never have become addicted to your laughter,
or blinded to the truths that I could see.

The dichotomy of beauty and pain
from an ill-advised over exposure,
leaves me alternately wistful and trembling,
wishing for forgetfulness and closure.

M. Zane McClellan

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