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  Mar 2019 Brooke
Tony Tweedy
I spent most of my life learning how to cry.
I will spend the rest of it learning how to stop.
  Mar 2019 Brooke
Priya Gaikwad
SHE
She’s not beautiful,
She’s not nice,
She’s messy,
Terrifying, haunting,
Radiant, breath-taking,
Just like art.
Brooke Mar 2019
Don't tell me to shut up
Don't tell me to move on
Don't tell me I don't matter
Or that I don't belong
Don't tell me to get out
Don't tell me to let go
Don't tell me I am useless
Or that I'm just a burden
Don't tell me that you hate me
Don't tell me that I'm ugly
Don't tell me who you think I am
and that I'll never change
Don't tell me that I'm worthless
Don't tell me that I’ve failed
Don't tell me that I'm weak
And that I should just die
Trust me
I already know
I already believe it all
So don't tell me anything else
Don’t kick me while I’m down
Don’t tell me any more lies
Or I might just die tonight
  Mar 2019 Brooke
Ciel
I was hurting, suffering
From a pain so great,
That words, screams and tears
Were not enough.

So I did the only thing
I knew how to:
I danced,
And danced,
And danced some more.

I danced
Until my feet bled,
And my vision was blurry
From the sweat and fatigue;
Until I was breathing so hard
That it burned my lungs;
Until I could no longer feel
My legs aching;
Until my lips were so dry and chapped,
It hurt to smile or move them at all.

I let the music carry me,
And with every note,
With every beat,
I would imagine a string
Attaching to my limbs
Allowing me to lose control,
Allowing me to surrender
Until I was no longer in charge
Of my movements.

It felt good.
That pain felt comforting.
Normal. I understood it.
It let me know I was alive still.
It let me know I could still feel something.
And so I welcomed it.
For it was nothing compared
To the one that I felt inside.

The one that was invisible,
Yet suffocating me with its presence.
The one that left me numb every night.
The one that filled me up with fear
And still drained me of all emotions.

The one I tried to ignore,
But seemed to never leave.
Always stalking me,
Hiding in the shadows
Waiting for its moment.
A moment of weakness,
Of solitude
Or ultimate numbness,
A moment I was terrified
Would soon come.
I know this poem is sad and sombre but it is how I felt and I know a lot of people can relate. One thing I would like to say however is that it gets better. It really does. Once you decide to get better, you will.
  Mar 2019 Brooke
Tatiana
You know my name
Not my story
You see my smile
Not my pain
You notice my cuts
Not my scars
You can read my lips
Not my mind
I do not know who wrote this, but it means so much to me. The title is what I think it describes
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