Defeat.
Forgive this lack of verbal and corporal eloquence. It must have been that moment when you spoke and cursed us both. I stumble over words in a language still so foreign to mine, and sadly, it seems like not even my eyes could give it away. Now I can't find a way to abscond nor a way to purge. My only release should be the spoken truth, but I'm restrained by this damned fear of humiliation.
If only I knew that my ailment would finally become my cure... Then I'd announce it and display it! Instead I should just admit defeat and not postpone my leave.
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