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2 followers Oct 2015
Tears run down my face
For my friend
Who sent me her suicide note
She was only twelve
Hatred seems to ignore age
Surrounding her
In a toxic environment
That she calls "home"
Slit her wrists
Escaped the hatred
Left the toxic air
The hatred stayed
She didn't
  Oct 2015 2 followers
Jared Steele
To the kid that no one sits with at lunch
To the kid that has no friends
To the kid that can't feel love
To the kid that forgot how to smile
To the kid whose parents say "why'd I have to have one like this?"

To the kid who has to inflict pain to know they're still alive
To the kid who's in an endless cycle of depression
To the kid who has funky colored hair
To the kid who has no hair
To the kid that gets battered and bruised for who they are

To the kid that yearns for attention they never get
To the kid that can't think straight
To the kid that isn't straight
To the kid that can't feel what life should be

Depression. That's all you feel
You can no longer tell what's fake and what's real
And the voices in your head-the real you is what they conceal
They tell you to pick up that knife
That's what'll make it better
So you bleed and you scream
and you plead and you try to deem
What's right and what's wrong
But in the end, is anything really....right?

Put down the knife and think back....
You're here for a reason
And no matter what that reason may be, you serve a purpose
If you think long enough, that image might start to surface
You're here for a reason...
this one's for all the kids who aren't normal
  Oct 2015 2 followers
ern kingham
When most people think addiction,
They think cigarettes and nicotine,
They think Alcoholics Anonymous and pain killers gone wrong,
They think gambling, ***, and ****.
They think addiction and they think of use versus abuse
After all the dictionary definition of addiction is:
"a strong and harmful need to regularly have or do something"

Something

Maybe that's why it's so hard for people to see that my lack of use is just as much abuse as the overuse of something.

They don't know that it is just as addicting to keep refusing food, as it is to keep drinking alcohol.

They don't know that keeping too small clothes in the back of the closet,
Hoping that one day your body will mold into them again,
Is just as dangerous as meshing oneself into someone else just for the night, but someone else the next.

They don't understand that counting the calories is just as consuming as counting the grams.

So don't tell me that my eating disorder is not as addicting as drugs, because cravings to be thin can be just as strong as someone's cravings to be high.

The feeling of an empty stomach, can be just as great as the feeling others get while watching ****.

Don't say that my eating disorder is just for attention, because just like addiction it could very well **** me.
  Oct 2015 2 followers
ern kingham
I remember the first time someone explained to me what the word gay meant.
We were in middle school
Playing on the swing set behind Stoy Elementary
"He’s so gay," she said
Bitter disgust poured out of her mouth with every syllable
I could not think as to why being happy could be such a horrible thing
And so I asked
My exact words being
“Whats so wrong with being happy?”
Now both my friends looked at me weird
“Don’t you know what gay means?”
“Doesn’t it mean to be happy?”
“You’re such a little kid, gay does not mean happy. Gay is a boy who likes another boy”
I stood there wondering why it mattered so much that a boy liked another boy;
why it was such a distasteful thing.
And why it meant gay couldn’t still mean happy.
  Oct 2015 2 followers
Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
2 followers Oct 2015
Skinny body
Thin fingers
Sitting on a little stool
Working all day
Weaving all night
Until he ran
All the way to America
The fight wasn't done yet
Rode back to Pakistan
Spoke one last time
Before he was shot
A resounding gun shot
Killing a boy
Trying to save other
Skinny bodies
That had to weave
With thin fingers
This is about Iqbal Masih who fought against abusive child labor until he died when he was 12.
R.I.P
2 followers Oct 2015
Pen scratches the paper
Paper flutters in the breezes
Voice shouts
Suddenly a gun fires
The Taliban have their guns
In my hand I have my pen
On my desk I have my paper
Loudly my voice speaks up
Go ahead
Shoot me
I won't stop fighting
You can take my pen
Take this paper from my hands
You won't take my voice though
This poem is about a exceptional girl named  Malala Yousafzai
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