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keikohan
21/F/England .
Overwhelm to the point of numbness, I falter, left half present in public. Waiting to crumble in the peace of 'home'. And if home, real home, is where the heart is then I wouldn't know where to look. Left in London maybe, or held back up North. I'm stuck between two poles, waiting again to crumble, crumble and fold.
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Sep 29, 2024
Sep 29, 2024 at 11:59 AM UTC
Train poem no.2
Breathing is hard when phantom hands weave weight within your chest, pulling you down to depths so low you'll never feel at rest. Your eyes may shut and thoughts may drift but one fact remains the same, you've never lived a day post-youth that hasn't brought you shame. You try and try to run away, break the cycle, save the day. Working hard to eat away at all the debt you must re-pay. But in the end you cannot mend the damage in your head, a broken record reminding you you'd still be better off dead.
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Sep 27, 2024
Sep 27, 2024 at 2:46 PM UTC
To me
I don't know how to describe this sensation, it's kinda like being a small fish in a big pond or some other overused cliché. When I walk in the world I see the buildings, the trees, the people... and I just sorta think, "wow. I'm so small." And I'm right, I am small... I'm small right now and I'm scared. Despite being small though, I'm gonna stand. Stand tall on my tippy toes. And pretend I actually matter.
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Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 2:47 PM UTC
Small
I feel a chill in my spine that clings to my skin, embracing me from behind and whispering into my ear. "It's all pointless, really". The soft mumbles that echo in my head make me wonder what would happen. What would happen if I stepped in front of the oncoming car? What would happen if  I no longer exhausted myself day in and day out for nothing more than a B+? What would happen if I could go back to being a blank nothing? As I am writing this, tender tears are falling gently down my swollen face, cupping my cheeks and embracing me with such close contact. It's such a cold warmth that surrounds me.
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Sep 21, 2020
Sep 21, 2020 at 4:20 PM UTC
Term Time
I started writing this poem in 2019, I never published it though. Obviously. I want to know what went wrong along the way and why my friends couldn't stay and why I have to pay for a ****** today.
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Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 6:43 PM UTC
Draft
I'm not sure why I am even trying anymore. I'm not sure if I was ever trying at all. But if I was never trying... why has it been so ******* hard.
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Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 6:39 PM UTC
Try
Crack. Thwack. Crumble. Each speck of dust just drops and drops and drops. Floating above the craters that were cracked, thwacked, and crumbled deep into the Earth. My Earth. Our Earth. What Earth? What's left?
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May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 2:46 PM UTC
Collateral Damage
Its spring now, The bright rays of sun Break through clusters of Heavy, grey clouds. No longer will the overcast Sky threaten to blow me away. From here I float, enjoying the Muffled bird songs from under Thick sheets of unbreaking ice Where I will drown in silence.
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Mar 10, 2020
Mar 10, 2020 at 4:41 PM UTC
Beautiful Day
I don't like making drafts, each line is almost composed on a whim. A feeling. A passion. Something that has been swelling within me for some time, a liberating release of emotion that can not and shall not be stopped, filling my lungs and drowning me with a tenacity that will never escape my parched lips.
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Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 3:47 PM UTC
The Process
Self-sabotage comes naturally to me, I know not to plunge myself into the deep dark abyss before me but alas I just can't help myself from jumping headfirst and screaming.
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Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 3:35 PM UTC
Know