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Why,
Can't I,
Bare the truth?

It seems that the trees
Know more of my roots.

For outside,
Is safe,
To no worries or feuds.

But I,
Must hurry,

To a home with no hue.
This poem is personal to me, as it is based on the controlling nature that some parents/siblings may possess. If you can relate to this poem, you are strong and valid.
Your heart,
Beats with mine.
We intertwine,
Creating a tie.

One becomes two.
Bound to the heart,

Chosen for you.
From your gaze,
To your taste.
Wrapped gently in your embrace.
Gifted me goods,
No other could replace.

Though your words,
Left a trace.
The soul I once embodied ,
Now trashed like waste.

As the taste I once savored,
Now soiled from your flavor.
What a melancholy night.
Thoughts so loud
They shock me with fright.
Whispers of aid,
Created by me.
Comfort alone,
By naked trees.
More touch I receive
From fields of green.
Wiping tears gently onto my sleeve.

For all I desire,
Is true company.
!TRIGGER WARNING!
(Mentions of suicide)

The wind caresses my skin.
One feeling to lead me in.
The tide
So wide,
I am feeling a rush.
Combined with hushed
Whispers of a spirit once crushed.
Though she thrived
In a landslide,
In the sea she is pushed.

To the deep waters,
She is finally shushed.
I am proud,
Little one,
For your heart has sung.
Made your own little rhythm
To your own little drum.
You have grown with wolves
But still ,
You're a cub.
Your gentle manner
Has taught you to love.
To rise above
Your lowest points.
To trudge the mountains
And reach great heights.
And now little one,
You are ready to fly.
To sadness and regret
You now wave goodbye.
At the edge,
I sink to my knees.
Nothing to feel,
Nothing to see.

The touch of grass,
Tickling my feet.
Yet no laugh I bear
In my defeat.

But a beautiful creature
Passes by.
I catch a glimpse
With my teary eyes.
She's burnt with orange
And the darkest of blacks.
So small in size
With wings on her back.

She lands so softly
On my button-red nose.
Fluttering so gently,
Unbothered by the cold.

I hold her gaze
Until she's ready to go.
And flutter away,
She goes back home.

I should follow her footsteps,
It's getting quite late.
For her presence,
Though small,
Has encouraged me to stay.
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