| Dear Me,
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| This is You,
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| Me,
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| Get up.
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| The ground is your reward
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| It will hold you when you are done.
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| Cancel all forks you are not done.
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| Put a silencing finger to the lips of all singing fat ladies.
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| This is not over.
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| Reel in all finish lines,
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| Steal the sound of the metal ringing hanging in the air and put it back in the
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| bell.
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| One more round we go,
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| Get up.
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| There are sunsets that need to be signed off on,
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| Snowfalls that need your approval,
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| Starry nights like sad lovers whose beauty has gone unnoticed in the glare of
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| television sets.
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| They are looking for volunteers to notice them,
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| Raise your hand, step forward you will not be chastised for staring some beauty
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| wants to be seen.
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| Get Up.
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| As if the simple act of standing has brought you closer to the cosmos than you
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| have ever previously been.
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| As if all the stars you’ve seen have been busylooking back, taking notices and
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| keeping track of which wishes need granting.
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| They heard you ask for strength, show them you haven’t wasted it.
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| Get Up.
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| Despite gravity, with her magnetic arms coaxing your mental dreams away from |
| flight.
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| Despite everything that will be said to weaken you against the towering odds
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| that stand before you like a mountain kissing vertigo into your grip
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| and daring to look down
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| Climb.
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| Not out of sutbborness.
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| Not out of a need to demonstrate the depths of will it takes to carry on.
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| But because you
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| You owe you one.
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| You owe you one
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| For every second you’ve spent painting skulls and crossbones on white flags
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| and rescuing yourself from even the option of surrender.
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| For every instant you rebuilt your heart using smiles salvaged from the
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| grateful faces of those who you reminded how to laugh.
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| Now laugh.
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| Because one time, in the middle of sex,
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| She asked you to pretend that you were a manatee, and you did.
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| And it was then as it is now okay to laugh
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| Your lungs will fill.
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| Like the bank accounts of the corrupt
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| Your lungs will collapse.
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| Like backyard tents after ghost stories and strange noises breath.
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| Dear me,
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| There will be another breath.
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| Dear me,
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| Silence is not a psalm you should know all the words to. |
| Dear me,
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| This is you, me, sidestep salamity like a matadore taking on a bullet.
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| Rise.
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| As if the sun has taken the day off and hired you as its substitute.
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| Leaving behind its lesson plan in a world full of students who can see no
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| practical value in what you are teaching
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| Teach them,
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| Today’s lesson is the same as every day before it.
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| Because the class has been struggling with this assignment.
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| Shine.
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| You must teach this by example.
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| So hand out sunglasses.
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| And do not dim yourself for the sake of their comfort.
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| The world is practiced in demanding that those who can cast light not do it
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| with such radiance.
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| Show them,
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| The falling stars dripping onto the horizon like drops of sky brewing new days
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| from the fresh ground of last night
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| Remember,
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| Some people require more light than others.
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| So make extra.
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| Dear Me,
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| This. |
| Is You.
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| Sincerely Yours,
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| Me. |