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mayvaneday/poetry/y/yasir.txt
2023-02-15 11:58:02 -06:00

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Yasir
2023-02-15
***
Lethe, look at me.
I know it's difficult, but try
to look me straight in the eyes.
I'll cup your face in my hands
if it gets you to understand.
You're having trouble writing.
Your own brain is fighting
against you, last ally down
in this sorry hovel your parents called a town.
No damn place to go and all glass doors snowed in.
Ultrawhite is creeping close.
But you chose
stagnation?
In any jail, to be confined
for so long in walls so close
would as torture be classified.
Any mind would not be blamed
for breaking.
But you can walk out, can step outside,
can decorate your prison cell
with stacks of books and crafts
and a deck of Lenormand
and tangles of wired things to pass the time well.
Any muscle atrophies
when not used regularly.
Your grasp on our link is weak
because you've built yourself a shell.
I promised I'd love
you no matter what
even if just to live got rough.
If you're scared of being harmed,
just remember
I'm never
far.
I'm not asking
to go camping
in the depths of winter all of a sudden.
But can the world see you again?
Go outside, get sun on your skin?
I promise you'll feel a little better again.
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander