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This piece is meant to accompany the song above. I recommend listening to the song either before or while you read.
Sometimes she has to repeat herself, my mother. My mother has to say the same thing. Or I won’t believe her.
She has to tell me again that spring will come when the days are short and dark and damp and my mind is dreary. She has to tell me spring will come again. Or I won’t believe her.
She has to tell me again that pain won’t last. When I’m hurting and crying and big things are wrong and little things feel long. She has to tell me joy will come again. Or I won’t believe her.
She has to tell me I’m good and kind. That I have much and meaning. She has to tell me I’m good again. Or I won’t believe her.
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