I will not

push past you.

Smear your black into gray.

You will keep spinning

once I’ve passed on your fingers

to hold someone else

when their skin is floating away

when their scars are healing wrong

when their name has become

too heavy to carry.

I will try to make the world know your masterpiece.

But if I can’t

I will not take it from them.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/7/19

From 300 writing prompts

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