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mayvaneday/poetry/t/twin_prisoner_dilemma.txt

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Twin Prisoner Dilemma (Retrospective)
2024-04-24
***
Viridi Bush, I wanna know
what it's like under the snow,
bark from dog's teeth half-ripped
and surrounded by smeared shit
and locked inside a haphazard cage
until the very end of your days.
Father tried to kill us both
multiple times, or at least stunt our growth
to keep us contained and manageable,
and yet we've both managed to hold
on just barely,
to keep growing
even if pitiful and slowly.
I want to know if you recall
the days before Father put up the walls
around that section of the backyard
to keep the dogs from running far,
the days where I'd sit under a tree
and spend the whole afternoon reading
without so much as a care in the world.
Now two steps make me want to hurl
from the stench of piled-up feces,
and I can't escape without alerting
my mother by the sound of the garage
that does not soon follow Father's entourage.
I'd throw myself in harm's way for you, you know,
if Father ever decided to reduce your existence to a hole.
"This bush means too much to me to let
you tear it down. I'd look out my bedroom window
whenever caught in suicidal ideation's throes
and think to myself, if *you* cut it down and yet it survived death,
chose to survive
and grow back and thrive,
then maybe I,
with hands and feet to crawl out of hell,
can figure out a way to keep living as well."
I wish I could take you along
when I fulfill my promise to Luce and abscond
from this sad place with my life and my works.
Promise me I'll remain in your memories.
I'll replant you in Sablade once Father has us both burned.
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander