Just let them
Let them lie if that’s what makes them sleep at night. Let them play the victim if that’s how they cope with the truth. Let them twist the story and talk about you. Let them believe what they need to believe, because at the end of the day, people only see from the level of their own understanding. You don’t need to waste your energy proving yourself. Let them go. Let them judge you, because life will always reveal the truth. Let them face themselves when the silence becomes louder than the noise they created. You don’t need to fight battles that are not yours, and remember, when you stop giving your power to others, you take it back for yourself.
❤️
Ledge
No use telling
the dead what
you’ve learned since
they’ve learnt it too—
how to go on
without you, the mercy
of morning, or moving,
the light that persists
even if.
✶
Beauty is as beauty
does, my mother says,
who is beautiful & speaks
loud so she can be understood
unlike poets who can’t
talk to save their lives
so they write.
✶
It’s like a language,
loss—
can be
learned only
by living—there—
✶
What anchors us
to this thirst
& earth, its threats
& thinnesses—
its ways of waning
& making the most of—
of worse & much
worse—if not
this light lifting
up over the ridge
Kevin Young
❤️
Mantle
The dead do
what they want
which is nothing—
sit there, mantled,
or made real
by photographs
in silver frames,
or less real
by our many ministrations.
Dusting. Bleach. The world
swept, ordered,
seemingly unending.
The dead, listless,
lazy, grow tired
& turn off the TV—
or like a father passed
out in an easy chair
during the evening news
what’s watched now
does the watching.
Kevin Young
