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eventually
when the November winds bite at your cheeks
and you gaze at the darkness above,
as if it's the dried well
you call a 'heart'
did you ever notice—
how the night reveals itself slowly
painstakingly so
how those asterisms
you know so well
emerge silently, on cat-like feet
how difficult can it be
to see things right in front of you?
how long can it take, really
just to simply connect dots?
"how can you be so slow," they ask you,
"on a task so simple?
how come the others do things tirelessly,
and you don't?"
"maybe there's something wrong with you,"
they announce.
"there's something wrong with me,"
you declare.
but oh my darling, don't you see?
the way you trust your eyes
every other dark night
while you could've easily turned away
shut your little hope, and let the tears stay
but every beautiful thing takes time
and your eyes, they adjust to the dark, eventually
and the night, it turns bright, eventually
and everything, it all makes sense, eventually
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