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Sometimes I might feel something close to pity for you
But that’s only on the good days.
That’s why I take my coffee with a spoonful of sugar and a grain of salt
I would wonder how much they pay you
To keep quiet
Then I remember that it’s self-imposed,
And that they pay you instead
To keep your hands still.
Take that sheet of paper
Grab it
Rip it, from their hands
But don’t remember me.

Can you recall what your daily meals used to be?
Refuse, recycled into a new bottle
It looks okay until you swallow it.
Excrement of thought, is that all you’re worth?
I would have judged you for more.
Then I forgot
How much they pay the psychiatrist
And how much less you need him when it gets worse,
And how much more they tell you that you need him.
Just swallow your pill
Along with the bad taste in your mouth.

You’ll tell me that it’ll be okay, all you need is time
But then you’ll look at the calendar – last year’s calendar – and remember
Your heart will stop beating long before you mind.
I remember when they told us, “This is the best time of your life.”
We’d laugh.
Then they’d look at us and wonder why.
They still haven’t guessed, have they?
Remember the times, remember the times
And try not to fall apart.

On that last day, before we left, they told us
“You can do anything. The world is full of possibility.”
I held you while you cried on my shoulder.
I tried not to laugh.
And when you repeat that phrase,
Wondering why the world hasn’t opened up to you,
I’ll sigh and smile.
“Not for people like you, not for people like you.”

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The following comments are for "Fissure"
by Reiko Korin

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