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sierra-pruitt
who will take me to rome? because i'm not sure i can make it on my own but who said well who knows an ugly girl in a beautiful city is more common than you think but maybe if i get the lighting just right i can fake pretty for the fake post for the fake people maybe rome isn't for me though i never liked when in rome take me to ireland let me soak in the culture i'll flit away as the fæ and never return
0
Feb 15, 2020
Feb 15, 2020 at 11:05 PM UTC
I reached as far as I could but I was left painted in shadow. There was nothing left for me to gather. Taken away as quickly as it was given. Nothing lasts forever but this barely existed. If you love it let it go but I can’t bear to part with it. It’s all the proof I have left. My humanity. My normality. Emptiness lingers with the scent of it but it is unbearable. The void is unfillable. Scraping at every surface and coming up empty. There is nothing nothing left. I am alone with my thoughts emotions and empty cavernous mind.
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Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 5:23 PM UTC
Pain no. 2
no no sorry please continue i can't imagine the unfathomable pain you went through when your poor fish died today although every day i get out of bed hopefully go to class hopefully pay attention hopefully make it back to my room unscathed hopefully let me start over depression anxiety panic disorder OCD all things I deal with every day my brain doesn't trust me let alone you i can't hear you over the sound of the alarm in my brain saying there is something out of place something not right something that could **** me clench breath in release breath out clench breath in release breath out keep going they're almost gone age old techniques that almost never work i'll deal though it's okay please continue i just need to leave very soon so sorry i really must go but i hope you feel better and maybe we can talk again later
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
conversations you have
it hurts not to know so very much it feels like one half of you is being pulled up while the other half is being pulled down i must decide my destiny far too early for my liking but i cannot continue to endure to pain to entertain it to sustain it it grows like a festering disease just waiting for the perfect time to attack for your abundant joy to be broken down like a toddler knocking down a tower they spent twenty minutes building you expect it to happen but when it does you will never remember why sometimes falling apart is the worst part but other times putting back together is even worse and the worst part is every time you rebuild you know you will fall apart again and again forever because we are human and we have a tendency to destroy i couldn’t help but notice how destructive i was until i tore myself apart
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 12:54 AM UTC
Pain no. 1
you wake up feeling nauseous “it’s okay just keep going the ever-present coffee made never perfect but always enough the shakiness sets in you check your hands every two minutes just to make sure you aren’t faking it your hands and feet get cold you can’t help but wriggle your toes to regain feeling your heart feels like it’s retracting as if it wasn’t enough you feel like there’s a hole in your chest it’s hard to breathe and you don’t want to function you could use a coping mechanism but then people would notice no, noticing is bad better not you want to cry but the tears don’t exist finally alone in your room keep eating to fill the hole fall asleep watching YouTube videos wake up to suffer again tomorrow “you’re fine” you tell yourself this isn’t nearly as bad as then
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Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC
a day in my life with a panic disorder
She danced around the edges of Life. Whisking around every hurt and trouble. Not a doubt in her mind, for she did not feel pain. She glanced at the others, not knowing of their struggles and trials, for she had none. She would never understand why. Until she was pushed. Into Life. Into pain. Into confusion. She did not understand why, but she knew what she felt was true. She tried to glide away, but she could never dance the same way. Until death do her part.
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Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
Dance of Life
We sculpted this nation. We pulled the burning shreds from what was left after. After we discovered what there was. What there was for us. Our future. We sculpted these states, these laws, these rights, this nation. We sculpt ourselves, but why? We sculpted our images, our egos, our words, our hopes, our dreams. We sculpted ourselves. But we have already been sculpted. We need no additions, no subtractions, no edits, no remodels. We are we. Humans People Beings. We are we. However sculpted we may be, we are we.
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Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC
Sculpted
There is never a day I won’t memorize what to say a thousand times in my head. I will pray and pray that I can just lay alone in the comfort of my bed. Because when I get out that’s the part that’s scary. Every time I walk past a mirror, every time I will look. Not because I’m conceited but because if I stand out, then I’m not fitting in. Every time I walk in a room, I will always have my head down in case someone who knows me is there or someone who doesn’t notices me. There will never be a day that my hands aren’t shaky, that my heart is not racing, that I will go somewhere and not be afraid. My brain is a nervous wreck of strings connected by golden rings of lies and deceit. But mostly things that were said about me because they never leave. They interweave. They want to be here in my brain haunting me. And no one could ever love me because I’m unlovable, untouchable, underneath, everyone else. And one plus one does not equal two and “I love you” is never true because I’m tearing myself apart. And it will always be true that I’m afraid of you, and I will always guard my heart.
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Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 7:10 PM UTC
anxiety isn’t a real mental illness
I memorized it. All of it. It took me a couple years. Times 300. Plus about 72. But I did it. I memorized you. You were it. You are it. There was no one else. And it took me some time to realize it, But you are it. I dug deeper everyday. I unfolded, Discovered, Founded, All the better parts of you. There were too many to count. But of course I did anyways. You were mine and I was yours. And I would never expect you to do the same. But maybe someday You'll understand me like I understand you. Because I didn't just discover the good parts, I found the bad parts, The ugly parts, The ones you hate most. And it made me all the better. It made you better too, I think. You suffered. You didn't want to tell me everything. And I waited. I gave it time. But you were mine. And I was yours.
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 6:14 PM UTC
You Were Mine
We label ourselves what we think we are but we live in a world of broken mirrors. I am not who you say I am but I am not who I say I am either. How do we endure this life long question of who we are? We don't. We die wondering what we were and never truly know how beautiful we were because everything is more beautiful when it dies. It passes and we put on rose colored glasses and the whole thing was a happy accident. We are cursed with self-awareness and hope it is our savior when it is truly our devil. We cannot count on something that changes as the wind. Knowledge is what we hunger for but it is also our downfall, our poison, our ****** most foul. We can only pray to whatever higher being there may be that there is some sort of purpose in life. Something to live for. Something for our selfish minds and flesh.
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
Existential Cry