Notebooks

dont be another name i cross out when i see it
that i avoid in conversation
that makes me cringe when someone says it
even when it isnt you
dont
be the person i will cross the street to avoid
who makes my actions plastic when
youre in the same room because even when your eyes
are avoiding me
i feel them

please

you could be marble notebooks filled with poetry
you could be baskets of fruit and sandwiches
moments pulled from novels
moments pulled from our imaginations

we could be something like the starry night
the painting or the thing
itself and we could be colors and darkness
and mystery if we wanted to be
if you
dont make yourself
another statistic
another number another disappointment
another bruise in the growing list
of hurts that i have caused i will rip something inside of me
and give it to you
as long as you
can try and stay

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