implore

You’re sacrificing yourself

for an image

you won’t find until you’re invisible.

You’ll look down from above,

see it in the polaroids

your loved ones are grieving on.

 

What put you in this frame of mind?

How could a world of so much good

be so viciously unkind?

Tell me who it was,

tell me what it was,

I’ll give them a piece

of my mind.

 

Darling,

come to the table

now.

Let the banister

hold your weight as you walk down.

I know you say

you’re not able.

But we won’t tag you with a label.

And when your hands

have the same hard edges

as your knife and fork,

we won’t look.

 

You know that furry skin,

that hair on your legs

means you’re underfed.

The wobble of your weightless head

means you’re dehydrated.

You say you’re cold

and I wrap you up.

I feel your frame

and think of your grandmother.

It scares me that

you feel so old.

It’s no one’s fault

but it’s time to consult

how we get past this,

because you’re still here

but I already miss

 

you.

 

I know it’s a process

and you’re fearful

but give us access,

and let’s make it fun.

You can teach

your little cousin

how to beat the sugar in slowly.

Or you can do the chicken

and the marinade.

Don’t you love the way

our kitchen window is hit with the morning sun?

Remember the crinkled grin

you would give when you licked the spoon?

Those were the days.

 

I’m full with greed

for ways to help.

I found a book

we can read,

written by those

who’ve chewed through

the same as you.

I know you’re older now

but you can still nestle under my shoulder.

I promise

it will give us everything we need.

 

It’s a trigger for me,

the more you stay home

the less your friends ring your mobile phone.

Your hand is up and down

like a windscreen wiper,

thumb pressing apps.

Great.

Another obession

to help you relapse.

 

I’m sure it was just the TV glow,

sure it was just the shadow

making your eyes look so hollow.

 

You implore me

to leave the light off.

 

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