This is it.

After we pass the house

with ivy fence, I will leave through the time tunnel,

and I'll be

a mere speck of your memory

like November crumbled leaves.

We were like songbirds

migrating from winter, but those days

were all but a fleeting moment.

Your deep, widened eyes no longer hold onto mine,

and our bond

has been quietly dissolved.

Goodbye, and thank you,

for the time I lived in your servitude.

You were my hope, my false salvation,

my initial death and reconstruction.

Now that I've emerged, free from my cocoon,

I traverse the long mile to the future, my home world.

My soul

unhealed.