Dear Yukhei:
I wish you could have seen yourself the
way I saw you,
the way an artist sees art.
And I know your knees were bruised
from falling too much,
your feet hurt from always taking
one more step,
your back was sore from carrying the
weight of a family,
and above all,
your mind was broken because of
itself.
And I'm sorry,
if I was the one who made you believe
that was okay to throw the whole book
to the fire,
instead of ripping out a page.
Or two.
It didn't matter.
You could have ripped all my pages,
I would have let you, but,
no.
You had to burn the whole damn book.
