Beats on the telegraph

Promise me.
Hard as it will be.
That you will stop,
The changing of your past,
The twisting of your history into,
Some dusty, museumpiece,
Locked in joyless rooms,
Where laughter comes at cost.
Tear down the pennants,
Rip the paintings up,
Smash the trinkets,
Crush it all.
Remember you are more,
Than that dark, empty life,
That you are painted into.
Keep remembering,
What you were before,
And guard against,
The acid creeping in,
Etching out truths,
Removing worth,
Until only your shell,
Remains.
Promise me.
Hard as it will be.
That you will always,
Always,
Always,
Remain strong,
In the face,
Of other’s need,
To own,
The things,
That make,
You,
You.

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