Save the crying, the teary eyes, the hitch in your throat, the hopeless eyes casting about for a place to rest anywhere but on his face, in his eyes; save it up and buy a night's sleep finally knowing it's over, buy a chance to see tomorrow, not as a cold repast, but as something he would see. Something better than right now.
Save the earnest words, the comforting cliches, the useless crap veneer we all strap onto our souls every day to battle the world, save it all up for the day your family leaves, the day your friends find your jugular, the day some kid laughs at your tottering, twitching, barely coherent, oh so "un", remains of dignity.
Save it for the cold steel robot beneath your all too human, all too pat and small and predictable, feelings. Save it for the one behind the eyes that saw these words. Or, put it all in a bank, a vault of "No's", a little pink piggy bank of shame and dread.
Because they will find out that it was you. They will charge you dearly for your discretion, your humanity, your pity. They see through your charade.
Save wisely... my... friend.
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